Obscurity
by Alma
Summary: Jenova remains a dominant force in Cloud's life, but as his sanity decays it threatens to become the only force. Currently being rewritten.
1. Smoke and Dreams

Chapter One - Smoke and Dreams

* * *

_Ribbons of blood flow from her neck in beautiful meandering patterns, dribbling over the shallow recess at the base of her throat and snaking downward. The crisp red is intoxicatingly vivid against her creamy white complexion. But still, something is pulling me, telling me it's not enough. I take a step back and gaze in scrutiny at my art work, one hand under my chin. Something is still missing. _

_A distant voice calls my name in an urgent plea, heightening my irritation._

_The voice elicits a deep painful need that is inescapable – one that asks for bloodshed. I know what it's asking of me, and as much as I don't want to listen, there is no other option. I am trapped. My hands move by themselves, tightening around the handle of the sword, raising the blade steadily. I am convinced of nothing else so much as adhering to this voice's demands. Another cut is necessary – perhaps above the shoulder or along the left side of the abdomen. Yes, that might satisfy the need. I resume my work, slicing along the soft space above her clavicle; more red slides downward, dripping off the blade and onto the floor. Suddenly the body I am cutting comes to life like a marionette whose strings had been pulled. Her face comes into focus and I realize who she is, though I am unable to react – only to watch. _

_Aerith inhales with a frightful gasp and twists frantically in a panic, her long chestnut hair twirling in sync with her motions. She remains confined, however, to an invisible cage like always and cannot escape. Wide emerald eyes spill tears down her cheeks and the thin pink line of her lips parts._

_She screams out in terror, calling for help, calling for her dead lover. "Zack!"_

_The sound doesn't register properly in my head. _

"_I'm right here," my voice soothes, "Don't worry."_

_The blood flows richer and thicker down her naked body, and a gentle pull of elation expands under my chest. Maybe, maybe, it is enough. Yet still the voice doesn't cease. It screams to me, demanding more. Always more. _

_More... _

_Aerith starts screaming._

I bolted upright in bed, every muscle tensed for the worst and unwelcome adrenaline pumping furiously in my veins. The horrific images of her instantly receded into the folds of night, and I struggled momentarily to contend with the clash of dreams and reality. My head pounded, my heart clenched in a tight knot between my lungs. Another dream. Another nightmare. Taking a deep breath, I sat completely still, waiting for the residual panic to fade. Several moments of immediate silence were broken only by the interlude of scattered cars driving past in the street below. Clutching my face in my hands, I wiped the sweat away and stood, arms shaking.

This had been the fourth time in the past month that I'd had the same dream. Every horrible detail remained constant. I always heard a voice commanding me to cut her open just to spill more blood. And I always complied, convinced it was the only way to stop the insatiable urge. It wants blood, needs blood. Though unexplainable, as dreams often are, it always felt _right. _

Eager to elude the abrasive hunger roaming my thoughts, I carefully opened the bedroom door and treaded lightly downstairs into the bar. Tifa had to have been asleep, given the immense stillness within the building, and Marlene and Denzel were away for the weekend visiting Barret so I was completely alone. Flicking on the light, I poured a glass of cold water and sat on one of the bar stools, one elbow on the counter. The immense calm in the air only magnified the chaos inside my head.

Most disturbing was the feeling of tranquility that accompanied the dream – the movements of the sword, the blood pooling at her feet, the meticulous inspection I made of my work, always searching for a more immediate form of gratification to appease that voice – it all felt natural. Perfectly natural. Until I woke up, of course, and then my brain would register just how _wrong_ it all was and nausea would set in like swift punishment for enjoying the sick deed.

After a sip of water, I propped my head up with one palm and stared down at the grain of the brown wooden countertop. A deep-set fatigue reawakened along with the sickness in my chest, impossible to ignore. This dream always felt too real, too vivid to dismiss. There was always something within me, something that didn't belong, clawing to get out.

Soft footsteps descended the staircase behind me, and I rolled my head to one side to observe the cause of this disturbance.

"Oh! Cloud!" a warm startled voice called, "I...I didn't expect to find you here."

The most beautiful woman stood at the bottom of the stairs, an over-sized scarlet robe wrapped tight around her, and her long black hair disheveled from sleep yet still wondrously attractive.

"Tifa..." I responded quietly, swallowing hard, "Sorry if I woke you."

"No, no," she quickly held her hand up and smiled, "I just couldn't sleep..."

"Me neither."

"Bad dreams again?"

"No, I was just..." I glanced around quickly to find an excuse, "I was just thirsty, so I got some water." I held up the glass in corroboration of my story.

Tifa nodded, though she didn't appear to believe me, and walked behind the bar counter, getting a glass for herself. Water, as well. She sat next to me, so close that our elbows touched. The faint soapy scent of her skin drove away the potency of the blood in that dream, and an awkward silence fell around us. She cleared her throat and drank from her glass. Her rigid posture and fixed stare at some distant unseen object was enough to tell me she'd been contemplating something serious.

I spoke first, not at all trying to hide my concern. "Is everything alright?"

My voice seemed to jolt her from heavy deliberation and she turned to me suddenly, her dark reddish eyes tilted down in a pained expression of worry.

"Cloud... I want us to be together." She said it so nonchalantly, that I almost didn't catch her implication right away. "I'm tired of this ..." she paused, as if searching for a word, "...this tension between us. I want a life with you – a real, proper life together." Her hand suddenly moved to rest on mine and the warm feel of her skin startled me.

"I know." My short reply felt insufficient, just lonely bits of words.

Then I heard it. Almost an echo in the distance. A voice. That voice. That urgency. Just like in the dream, it spoke to me clear as day. A sudden, unwelcome guest in my head.

Without warning, the Jenova cells inside me contracted sharply, and a sudden hot pain coursed along the top of my spine. I turned away from Tifa, absolutely not wanting to alarm her.

"So... what do you think about it?" Tifa went on sweetly, oblivious.

I could only think of getting her away from me because there was no indication as to what caused the abrupt spur of activity in the Jenova cells and I couldn't afford to lose control. Everything happened in slow motion, the pain rippling down through my stomach. My concentration splintered away as the dizziness increased. As much as I wanted to embrace her and affirm that her feelings were completely mutual, I was far more concerned with the origin of the voice in my thoughts, why the sound of it absolutely chilled me, and most importantly, why this burst of unwarranted Jenova activity had suddenly overwhelmed me.

Tifa continued, though her voice was distant, "What do you think about having a life together?"

Still facing away from her, I replied as delicately as I could, "Oh, well, don't we already have a life together?" A sharp new heat began crawling inside my skull.

"Aww, Cloud," Tifa said happily, a smile plain in her voice, "You're right. We do." Her hand tightened around mine, but the feeling was muffled through layers of varying numbness. "We do," she repeated, except this time her voice was a delicate whisper and much closer.

I turned to face her and our eyes met, yet her deep mahogany irises were gazing at me in a way I'd never seen before. The white hot pain creeping down my spinal column paused, if only for a second. The next moment, her lips were pressed against mine, sliding open in a soft kiss. And the world stopped. A kiss. From the girl of my dreams. My figurative dreams, not the literal ones. Certainly not the one I had dreamt recently. Of that blood...

The voice called again – sudden and loud – echoing in my head, cutting through everything else and freezing my thoughts.

But there was no time to react. Tifa moved closer to me, her lips locked with mine, and the gliding warmth of her tongue sent a curious freezing sensation along my skin. Her strength surprised me as she linked her arms behind my neck, pulling me closer still. I complied, and a sudden joy dispersed the stubborn voice in my thoughts, scattering the points of pain traveling through my muscles. Tifa was so beautiful, so incredibly alluring, and her kiss was full and passionate. Despite the spontaneity of the situation, our closeness felt perfectly natural. The light melon taste of her lip gloss smeared across my lips and the sweet scent of her hair filled my senses, dampening my reasoning skills and voiding all prior rationale for keeping her away. I wanted her more than ever. With one hand tracing along her cheek and the other behind her waist, I roughly pulled her body to mine, desperate for her warmth like a drug.

But the gnawing pain returned with a searing flash of white in my vision. It crushed through the core of my chest and the nauseating presence of Jenova cells overtook me in one horrific heartbeat. Immediate chaos broke through my mind in bits of fragmented pain sinking into my joints, stabbing my eyes, twisting my insides into a cold hard mass. And the voice. I heard it, demanding blood. Demanding more than I could offer. A new panic ignited under my skin because I feared it wouldn't stop until I satisfied its craving. Everything expanded and contracted rapidly and I felt myself fading. Fading... Succumbing to its insistence. The voice was pressing inward, and I was losing...

Losing... My vision became dark and my body became weightless... I was floating...

But in a heartbeat, it vanished and I was released without reason. My sense of touch returned first and I found myself leaning against the hardtop of the counter, my hands gripping the edge of the wood-paneling tightly, the comforting warm body of Tifa no longer pressed against me. My vision cleared next, and I gazed around, searching for the owner of the voice that was invading my thoughts, but I could only see Tifa standing several feet away, arms crossed over her chest with a sad look on her face.

"Tifa..." I could still taste her in my mouth.

"It's Aerith, isn't it?" she asked bluntly, as though she expected it all along. Her voice was clear and even. "It's always been her, huh?"

It took me a second to put it all together in my head. Her assumption couldn't have been further from the truth. I tried to explain at once, "No, don't -"

"Cloud," she cut me off with a huff, "I don't know what to say anymore. We all need to move on. I just wanted to move on with you... but..."

The absolute finality in her tone alarmed me. "Tifa..." I wanted to say something comforting, but she turned away sharply and walked towards the stairs.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Cloud. Forget this ever happened," she responded solemnly and retreated upstairs, ascending with a forced quickness.

I tried to stop her. "Tifa, I..."

But she was gone. Frustrated by this misinterpretation, I cursed under my breath, raking my fingers through my hair.

The voice had vanished, and I told myself, tried to _convince_ myself, that it was just a result of my subconscious preoccupation with that dream. And yet the utter feeling of losing control chilled me to a deathly cold. It was hard to tell dreams from reality, and I couldn't be certain whether I had actually heard it or just been confused. Yet remaining downstairs for a few quiet moments of contemplation got me nowhere. The voice did not return, nor did Tifa. With a sigh, I headed upstairs with full intentions of explaining my actions to her. Leaving things caught between a misunderstanding and the truth could only create tension between us, especially after that incredible kiss. And whatever troubles lay in my dreams were irrelevant in light of Tifa's affection for me. My past would not interfere with our future. I couldn't allow it.

The door to her room was shut, but light seeped from the slit at the bottom. I knocked softly. No answer. I couldn't let it go, however. Tifa was much too important to leave in a flurry of confusion. With a bit of hesitation, I pushed open the door and peered in while remaining in the hallway. Tifa sat on her bed facing the wall, shoulders slumped, dark hair pulled to one side, twirling a few strands in her fingers idly.

"Tifa?" I called softly, but she didn't move or even acknowledge that she'd heard me.

Taking a few steps inside, I prepared an apology in my head, knowing how bad the situation appears. Her head turned slightly at my approaching footsteps, but she said nothing.

"I'm...sorry about whatever just happened. I didn't mean to push you away," I mumbled, feeling a sudden need to comfort her.

"It's fine, Cloud. I shouldn't have been so forceful with you," she responded lifelessly without looking up.

"It wasn't Aerith," I said loudly, as if trying hard to convince myself as well.

She leaned to one side and gazed up at me with a scrutinizing expression as though trying to filter out the truth.

"I didn't mean what I said," she replied at last, "About how we all need to move on. It's ok if you're not ready to. I know if I were you, I don't think I could get over that sort of death either. If it had been you –" she stopped herself short and frowned.

"Downstairs..." I began quickly before she could go on, "The reason I paused was because... I thought I heard something. But I guess I didn't."

"Heard something? Like, you were afraid someone was watching us?" Her tone lightened considerably, and her eyes brightened.

"Yeah, something like that," I lied with a little smile, "I think it was just some paranoia. Or a hallucination." Bad choice of words, I realized only after I said it.

"Oh, so... You weren't thinking of –"

"No," I cut her off and walked forward into her room, stopping next to her. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, I was still searching for my next words when the sudden desire for her touch surged through my thoughts. Our relationship had been nothing but tension the last few months, caught between unspoken words and glances, so I was relieved to finally have this confrontation, no matter how inconvenient it may have seemed at first.

Reacting on pure instinct, I embraced her, pulling her close, and my lips were on hers in an instant. Again we were kissing, but the intensity was beyond innocent and a light exhilaration filled me. Everything else was unimportant except her. I wanted everything about her. Every piece of her. One of her hands slid down my back, pulling gently in subtle encouragement. I obliged, holding her jaw to mine with two fingers and slowly shifted my weight, moving closer. My lips moved down to her neck, kissing the smooth skin and trailing to her shoulder.

Everything felt so surreal, I wondered whether it was an illusion. Or a dream.

Chills abruptly tore through the pleasure, halting everything like a flood of ice through my veins. Instantly, my vision dimmed to a gray tinge and Tifa faded away like dust. Ash coated my throat, obstructing my breathing, and I choked, attempting to cough. Then, through the sudden chaos, I heard it. As plain as any voice, it made its demands. There was nothing around me anymore but winding trails of dust and a deep inner pain constricting my lungs.

_Cloud..._

Simple. Undeniable. The one word I had grown to despise because of that dream. Always a tone of utter command. A condemning reproach if I did not comply. No way around it. It wanted something that would never satisfy. Never.

The urgency of finding some way to please the demands sprung through me, feeding the unknown fear that always crept along my stomach when I heard it, when I _felt_ it. Why was I afraid of it? Why would I do anything to avoid its wrath? To avoid its displeasure? Nothing mattered in light of its arrival. Only making it go away. Blood.

It's never enough, though. I fought against the voice, violently, desperate to return to Tifa. To hold her, to be held by her. A sharp unexpected pain in my lip halted my bitter revolt, and warm blood rushed under my tongue, the thick metallic taste coating my throat. No, this is wrong, I told myself. This is no dream. The voice began laughing in response.

More blood filled my mouth, hot and wet, cleansing the dust from my throat. It was soothing, like a splash of cold water on sweat. I needed to call out to Tifa, to find her or warn her somehow, but I couldn't find any words because I was drowning, blind. Paralyzed by an unknown source, absolute terror griped me because the fear of never being able to return from a nightmare had never felt so real. Liquid filled my lungs, and I struggled for a breath, my chest crushing inward.

And things grew dimmer – the sound of the cruel laughter, the taste and smell of blood, the supreme coldness. Everything diminished until there was nothing. Nothing...

* * *

The dull ache in my head gradually faded as light threaded into my vision. Slowly, painfully, I opened my eyes, surprised to find myself lying on the floor in my bedroom. My neck was horribly stiff and I tasted something coppery in my mouth. The muscles in my back were sore as hell. Sleeping on the hardwood floor had been a very stupid idea, although I couldn't exactly remember actively deciding to do so. Everything was a big blur.

Faint patches of yellow afternoon light strained through the horizontal blinds on the window, leaving strips of shadows across my abdomen. One glance at my phone dispelled my sleepiness – it was 4pm. Immediately, I stood, rubbing my eyes while trying to recall the previous night. Suddenly my thoughts went to Tifa, and something within me wanted desperately to know if she was okay, although I couldn't be certain why.

Sleepily walking over to the bathroom, I stubbed my toe on a renegade nail head and cursed silently. The general sounds of chatter and glasses clinking emanated from downstairs, indicating a bar full of patrons. No doubt Tifa was incredibly busy, and I knew I should've been helping her. As quickly as possible, I showered and dressed, brushing my teeth twice to get the taste of blood off my tongue. It was entirely unsettling that I couldn't recall how exactly I had been injured, but there was a tiny cut on my bottom lip.

Forcing my thoughts away from the mystery, I carefully went downstairs, eager to check on Tifa. The bar was slightly more crowded than usual given that it was still too early for the evening crowd, and Tifa stood behind the counter mixing a row of drinks. The moment I approached her, however, she inhaled in a short gasp and her eyes filled with fright.

"You ok?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"F-Fine," she replied instantly, avoiding my gaze.

One of the long sleeves covering her arms lifted up slightly as she reached for an empty glass, exposing a dark bruise on her wrist. Horrorstruck, I grabbed her arm and pulled the sleeve up past her elbow to reveal a row of thin black lines like fingers wrapped around the soft white of her forearm. Immediately, the previous night's dream and the memory of that _voice_ hit me like a dagger in the stomach, and I released her, stunned.

"Tifa, I...I don't know what happened to me last night," I confessed as my chest tightened.

She pressed her lips together in a frown and shut her eyes.

"Tifa... Did I do this to you?" I could hardly conceal my terror.

After a long sigh, she opened her eyes and turned to me with a wary expression.

"You... don't remember?" she asked carefully, slowly.

"What did I do?" I responded immediately, horrified.

For several moments, her narrowed eyes merely searched mine as though attempting to detect deceit.

"Tell me what happened last night," I asked desperately, lowering my voice considerably.

The noise in the bar was welcome, for once, because I did not want a single person overhearing our conversation. Truthfully, the only thing I remembered was kissing her. Then that hideous desire, that urgency for blood – to satisfy that thing clawing inside me, that voice...

"Cloud," Tifa's sudden voice broke my thoughts apart, "Come here." Her voice was exhausted, aggravated, frightened, a mixture of emotion I never knew possible from her. And that's what scared me most.

She walked around the counter stepping into the kitchen at the back, and I followed without hesitation. Through the empty archway connecting the two rooms, she stood to one side so she could plainly keep her eye on the cash register behind the bar counter. Arms folded across her stomach, eyes gazing out towards the assorted patrons sipping down booze, she did not say anything for a long time. But I patiently waited for her to explain. I needed answers.

"You want to know what happened?" she repeated my words carefully, as though handling an explosive. I nodded and she sighed. "Well," she began softly, "We were in my room and we were getting close... You were kissing me. Do you remember that?"

"Yes, I remember," I said, though the memory of kissing her did not cheer me up.

"Ok, well," she went on with some apprehension, "Then you... you held me down. You wouldn't let go of my wrists. It was like you were someone else... You just wouldn't stop! I had to hurt you to get you off me!"

"Hurt me? Wait, what did I do?" I stressed, eager for explicit details since my memory was failing me.

She looked around for a second to make sure nobody else was watching then pulled the neck of her shirt down to her shoulder, grimacing in the obvious pain the gesture brought. A huge bloody wound was torn in the delicate skin above her collarbone stretching over her shoulder with bits of raw flesh exposed beneath the missing portions of skin. Ripples of dried blood lay under the skin, purple bruising surrounding it.

"Oh..." My lack of words summed up my absolute shock. I didn't remember hurting her and furthermore I couldn't even comprehend _how_ I could have done that to her.

She covered the wound with her shirt again and stared back at me as though expecting an explanation.

"Tifa..." I was suddenly conscious of my jaw hanging open, "Tifa, I'm so sorry. I was not myself. Last night – Tifa, listen to me. I was not myself. I would never hurt you." The words, the excuses, fell from my mouth.

She looked away as tears welled in her eyes.

"Tifa," I repeated her name as though it was the last weapon that could combat the sick voice within me. "Tifa, I would never hurt you willingly. I don't remember doing that to you."

"Then what, Cloud? What am I supposed to believe?" she snapped suddenly, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

Anxiously rubbing the back of my head, I let a few moments pass before I responded. "You need a curing materia. Let me get you a Restore. I'll-I'll call Yuffie, and uh –"

"No," she interrupted nonchalantly, "No, she'll ask questions and I... I'm not ready to answer any. Besides, I don't want to use any materia. It will heal by itself with time."

"I'm so sorry..." An apology would never be enough, though.

"Tell me what's been going on, then. Give me a reason."

"It's just this..." I hesitated, unsure whether or not I should tell her about the dreams and the voice. Surely, she didn't need to worry about anything, but this felt important. And I wanted to maintain my innocence in the matter. "I've been... well, I haven't been myself lately."

"What do you mean?" She eyed me with caution

After a short pause and a deep breath, I started to explain. "I've been having this... dream. A lot. And each time I hear this voice in my head. But it's a voice I don't recognize, yet it seems to know me. In my dream, it barely speaks – only a few words, my name mostly. But each time I hear it, I know its demanding something of me."

"I don't understand... What is the dream about exactly?"

Another pause. Because I wasn't sure how to delicately put it. "It's about... it's about Aerith," I lowered my voice just above a whisper, "It's Aerith, but..."

"But what?"

"I cut her up."

"...What?" Her eyes widened; a hint of disgust was in her tone.

"In the dream, I cut her up. Every time."

"Cloud, stop." She held one hand over her eyes, fingers gently pressing on her eyelids.

"But each time it's like I'm acting in fear of this voice. It needs blood, you see. And there's always so much blood, but that's never enough."

"Cloud, stop!" she yelled suddenly, one arm slicing through the air between us for emphasis. I instantly fell silent. "These... dreams," she continued, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"It never seemed important. Besides this was the first time I'd heard the voice outside the dreams."

"Wait... You heard this voice again? While you were awake?" She seemed terrified beyond reason.

"Yes. Last night was the only time, though. Which is why I was trying to explain that I wasn't myself..."

"Cloud..." Her mouth hung open again, shock and horror battling for dominance of the expression on her face. "This voice... Could it be Jenova?"

"What? No way. I'm fine," I insist quickly, though truthfully, the thought had crossed my mind. But it just felt different this time. Much more different than before.

"You need to do something about this," she replied, much more authoritative than before though the fright still lingered in her tone. "You need to do something if that _thing_ still has some sort of power over you. You really frightened me last night... And now you say you hear some phantom voice demanding blood?"

"Well, if you put it that way, of course it sounds bad..."

"It _is_ bad, Cloud!" she hissed, then looked away again before continuing in a much more even tone, "And to think I was really beginning to hope – well, never mind that."

A long tense silence followed, and the noise from the bar sounded much louder than usual.

"What should I do?" I finally spoke. The question was absurdly direct, but if anyone knew how to handle a tough situation, it was Tifa.

"I don't really know..." She shook her head gently. "Maybe ShinRa can undo whatever they did to you..."

"ShinRa?" Anger rushed through my bones at the name. "No. No, to hell with ShinRa. I don't see how they would help!"

"They must be able to do _something_!"

"No. No way. I'm not asking ShinRa for a damn thing."

"Then, I don't know what you should do, ok? I don't know! But you need help, Cloud. You really do, if that thing is still disrupting your life."

"Tifa... I can handle it. I've handled it in the past..."

"Apparently you _can't _handle it, Cloud! This is serious!"

"Then what?"

"Then at least go and ask ShinRa to help you! They are the ones who – "

"Forget it. Just forget ShinRa."

She sighed. "Fine. I'm only trying to make a helpful suggestion because whatever took hold of you last night... I don't ever want to see it again..."

"Well, ShinRa is not helpful. Never has been. You know that."

Her warm brown eyes tilted back in a flash of sorrow. "You really don't know what happened last night...do you?"

Before I could respond, Tifa briskly turned and walked back into the bar, silently. Her face was expressionless as she continued mixing drinks. I silently cursed myself and approached her once more, the flash of anger subsiding.

"I'll... try to take care of it, ok?" I told her softly, but she still didn't meet my gaze.

The awkward silence only increased, so I decided to just leave. I had to clear my head, and get some fresh air. With deliberately slow steps, I made my way to the door, but she did no attempt to stop me. I exited unhindered with the strong feeling of guilt surrounding me. There was no choice. I had to do something about this voice before I got worse. There couldn't be a next time. Not when her safety was involved.


	2. Adrift

_Chapter Two - Adrift_

* * *

The air was humid outside, the sun dipping lower in the sky as afternoon progressing into evening. A deep orange tinge bled through the spaces between the opaque whiteness of the clouds. Tifa's words affected me more than I would have liked, and Jenova was suddenly the only thing on my mind. It was nothing but alien cellular tissue bonded with my own healthy cells – living bits of another sentient being supplementing my own life, thriving inside me. I tried not to think about it too often.

And if this voice was linked to Jenova, as Tifa had suggested, then... I didn't want to imagine what that implied. Because in my mind, Jenova was dead.

But what if Tifa was right? Jenova could still be manipulating my cells, causing me to black out and do whatever it wished, whatever agenda she had planned. And if I could never control the cells, then how could anyone ever really trust me? More importantly, how could I truly have a close relationship with anyone? With Tifa?

There was one way to try and get rid of the cells... but I didn't like it. As much as Tifa's suggestion had infuriated me, ShinRa was, without a doubt, my best option. If anyone could reverse the shit that Hojo had done, they would be in ShinRa's science department. The new company headquarters was based in Edge, of course. Although ShinRa was no longer officially functioning, everyone was used to their constant presence and ultimately defaulted power to them once again. Rufus Shinra, wherever he was now, was still the ruler of this city.

But I wasn't that desperate for ShinRa's help just yet. In fact, I was beginning to feel very lethargic from sleeping all day. Walking would wake me up, help clear the fog from my brain, I hoped. The ruins of Midgar were my destination. Sector Five in particular. As I walked forward, the pavement beneath my feet felt soft and malleable, the sun too bright and distracting. A peculiar dizziness invaded my stability as I continued on through streams of busy people going about their daily routines, paying no attention to me as I passed. My skin felt hot and the city never seemed so damned crowded and gray. I had the sudden urge to return to my hometown. Nibelheim was so quiet, so peaceful. So dead, I reminded myself. A town of lies, of death, of the past. There was nothing there now, yet I couldn't stop thinking of it.

I had reached the outskirts of the city, where the cracking sidewalk branched out and halted at the edges of the twisted skeleton of old Midgar. The dizziness suddenly reached a peak in its intensity, forcing me to pause, staggering slightly while the disorientation took its toll. I stood alone in a small space in the desolate region between Edge and Midgar. The mess of the city was behind me somewhere down the street I'd somehow wandered down, and nothing but ruins lay in front of me – rusting masses of torn metal, piles of crumbled concrete, shattered, destroyed, all because I gave Sephiroth the Black Materia. The sharp outline of the ruins stretching further in the distance was nothing but a black silhouette against the fading white of the sky's horizon.

_Cloud. Puppet. _

The voice... The feeling of power. The loss of control. A sharp pain stretched through my left arm, spreading up and outward through my chest, clawing up my throat, into my head. Bright hot pain. Lurching, curling, writhing. As if it owned me. And the voice was laughing again. I heard myself hit the ground before the nerve endings in my fingers registered dust and broken glass beneath me. My stomach hurt. Instantly, my vision darkened, the spikes of pain worsening.

_Come back to me._

Gritting my teeth, I resisted the rising internal movement of the Jenova cells. They were recognizing something that I wasn't. They could feel something. Something...

The usual accompaniment to that voice – images of blood and Aerith – did not come to me as expected, however. My headache was actually diminishing in light of a new unwelcome dream. A nightmare. It was Tifa this time.

I was following her through a dense forest, the thick smell of moss and wet leaves in the air. Tifa was screaming, running frantically, the long black ribbon of her hair jerking left and right with her frightened movements every time she gazed horrifically back at me. Her eyes were brimming with tears, her breathing uneven. Yet I pursued her as though it was my duty, though not certain why she was so scared of me.

She slowed gradually, her legs tiring, her lungs struggling for a full gasp of air, until at last she collapsed amidst the brown and red leaves coating the ground. The white tree trunks glowed with a gentle dreamy quality, blanketing everything in shades of milky silver. As I approached her, she inched backwards, desperately clawing at the ground with her hands, but the leaves crumbled to ash beneath her and she remained helpless. Kneeling down, my hand darted out to grasp her neck and I pulled her face close to mine, ignoring her protests.

"I've made you perfect," I heard myself say in a gentle whisper, and my lips creased into a smile.

Tifa's eyes widened in terror as my fingers closed tightly around her neck.

Immediately, my eyes snapped open and I awoke, grateful to find it nothing but a dream. The headache was gone, and the pain in my arm had dissipated entirely. But it was dark outside, the sky a starless black above and the remains of Midgar obscured in shadows around me. A faint alarm rolled through my nerves because I knew I must have been unconscious for hours, lying against the decaying brick wall of some long abandoned half-demolished building. With some effort, I stood up, dusting the dirt from my face and clothes, taking a few moments to reorient myself. The narrow path that I had collapsed near was no where in sight. Actually, I was directly near the church, yet how exactly I had managed to get there was a mystery. The faint light seeping from Edge was hardly enough to illuminate anything properly, yet the church was plainly visible. The cracked stone façade was ominously spliced with long dark shadows, and I gazed up at it with new curiosity because I had never seen something look so ... revolting. The whole building appeared to be emerging from the darkness like a desolate image out of a nightmare. Suddenly, I became aware of how alone I was, standing in the ruins like some lost ghost.

Unable to stop myself, I carefully pushed open the door of the church and looked in with apprehension. A lonely patch of moonlight had somehow found its way through the open roof and shone delicately on the flowers blooming on one side. It was a serene sight that normally brought me comfort, although bittersweet, yet at that moment as I stared at the tiny patch of persistent life, I felt nothing but disgust. The whole place felt unnatural and eerie.

And that's when I knew something was very wrong with me.

Wasting no more time, I left, walking quickly towards Edge, not looking back at the remnants of Midgar behind me. I passed through the lighted streets of Edge, past the rows of dilapidated residential apartments, past the late-night bars and clubs, the strings of illuminated advertisements, ShinRa's logo plastered in the corner of everything. I did not stop until I reached the bar.

Tifa had closed the bar, so I could only guess that the time was passed midnight. The soft yellow glow from the window upstairs meant she was still awake, though. Unlocking the front door, I entered quietly, still nauseous from the scent of those damn flowers. That alone was completely unsettling to me, because her flowers always meant so much to me – her sacrifice, her smile, her forgiveness. And now it made me sick.

Upstairs, the door to her bedroom was open, pale light spilling into the dim blue hallway. Tifa was sitting at her desk, reclined back with her hands on either side of her head as if trying to mute a severe headache.

"Tifa...?" I called through the doorway.

She turned towards me at once.

"Oh, Cloud. You're so quiet, I hardly heard you come home..." she said wearily.

"Yes... well..." I took a deep breath, "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she responded tersely, looking back towards the pile of receipts from the bar sitting on her desk.

"About last night..." I began slowly, trailing off intentionally in hopes that she would interject something.

Once more she peered up at me, though this time her eyes were full of sincerity. "I _do_ want to be with you," she announced, then sighed before continuing, "But, I'm starting to wonder if we're even capable of having a real relationship together. It's scaring me that you're still ..." Her voice paused, breaking apart.

"Still what?" I pressed.

She stood and faced me entirely, her complexion pallid.

"Still lost. Lost in all that garbage ShinRa did to you."

For some reason, I got offended by her choice of words.

"Garbage?" I repeated with disdain, "Ok, it's not exactly a picnic for me all the time, but those cells have saved my life on numerous occasions, and you know it." My tone was much harsher than intended. Even I was taken aback by the ferocity of my own words, so it was little surprise when Tifa's eyes flared with anger and she crossed her arms.

"What? Are you... are you grateful, then?" she spat, "Grateful that they caused you to practically lose your mind all those years ago? Grateful that those cells nearly took away every shred of identity from you?!"

"I'm alive right now because of those cells," I told her, stressing each word, "In fact, I would've died, _should've_ died, on the outskirts of Midgar with Zack if it weren't for Jenova! So, no, I don't think its garbage." My hostility was ... unnerving, unwelcome. I couldn't understand why a sudden rush of anger was pulling at me.

"Why are you defending it? Defending that _thing_?!" she shouted suddenly, placing her arms on her hips.

"I'm not defending anything!" I argued back.

"Cloud, what's going on?" her tone dropped, her voice flat. A dead serious stare met my gaze.

I was able to relax, her eyes grounding me. "Nothing. I'm sorry for yelling."

"Barret is coming by to drop the kids off tomorrow morning, and I do _not_ want them to see you like this," she went on evenly, "And I don't want to see you like this, either. Please, Cloud, just tell me what's going on."

My thoughts went back to the dream I had of Tifa suddenly.

Tifa's voice continued, piercing, "After all this time together, after all we've been through, why can't you just talk to me?" Her tone softened as though holding back tears. "Why can't you just let me in?"

I did not respond.

"After what happened last night to you, I'm terrified! I'm being completely honest – I'm dead terrified, Cloud! Terrified that it could happen again to you. And I really don't know what to do! I don't think I can lose you again..."

Still I said nothing. There was nothing comforting I could possibly say to erase whatever harm I had caused. She stared at me, waiting for a response, but since none came, she huffed in aggravation and kept talking.

"And then you told me how you're hearing a-a voice again, while you practically attacked me last night! What other conclusion could I come to, other than Jenova interfering with your life again?" she asked exhaustedly.

My silence only exaggerated the space between us.

She spoke again, her eyes searching mine, "Well? Say something!"

"I..." It was difficult to verbalize the sinking feeling clearly, "I don't know, Tifa. I don't know what to tell you."

"That's not good enough for me. For us."

"I can't explain it."

"Try."

An image of my hands around her neck flashed under my eyes. The nightmare. So close. So real.

_Reunion._

"No," I replied to her, ignoring the voice completely.

"Just no?" she asked, incredulous.

"It's nothing I can't handle." I tried to sound as confident as possible, to extinguish her fears.

"So that's it?" She sounded pissed. "You just want to run away, again?"

"I'm not running. I just need more time..."

"Then go," she said curtly, turning away, "Go vanish for hours or even days like you always do." She exhaled as though defeated, all the vigor deflated from her voice.

There were two distinct sides within me, equally vying for my attention. One half of me wanted to hold Tifa close, to tell her everything that had been going on, to beg her to help me. The other wanted only to keep her safe – push her away for her own good, so she would never know about my terrible visions, because I could deal with it alone. I didn't want to appear as weak and helpless as I felt. Not to her.

Standing silently in front of her, I could not decide which side to take. I tried to imagine all possible outcomes, all reasonable responses from her, and judge which would be most favorable. Yet my inability to say a single damn thing in my own defense was doing nothing for me. Eventually, Tifa just threw her hands up as if she could take no more.

"Just go..." she insisted with a tone of finality. "It's obvious there's something wrong, but you just don't want to let me in."

_Reunion._

The word was clear and bright, but I completely ignored it again, brushing it away. The sudden frequency of this voice was only irritating me now because I wanted nothing to do with it. That Reunion shit was long over and I was not interested in anything remotely related to it.

"Just...go..." she repeated slowly, a hint of growing anger in her eyes as she glared at me.

I wanted to obey her wishes, I really did. But my body was paralyzed to the spot, a chill running along my neck and shoulders. I wanted to feel her lips again. An insatiable desire to hold her overwhelmed me.

"Please... Just leave," she breathed out, the anger subdued yet still apparent, "I want to be left alone."

A subtle shade of blue clouded my vision and I felt my feet move, taking a few steps closer to her without my consent. She was eyeing me cautiously, tilting her head to one side. Without warning, my body lunged forward and I grabbed her by the waist, pinning her back to the wall. Our lips met instantly and the tension evaporated in the wake of sudden intense passion.

Her arms were around me, hands combing through my hair as we kissed. The warmth of her skin brought immeasurable pleasure. I had expected her to push me away, to reemphasis her wish to be alone, yet the moment we were together, everything felt perfect, complete. Holding her up against the wall, I felt her legs curl around me with a rush of heat. I was becoming lost in a moment of rapture, nothing but _her_ filling every one of my senses – her touch, her scent, her taste, the delicate moans I elicited from her, and of course her absolute beauty. The delicate curve of her neck, the feeling of her hips against mine – everything was purely amazing.

The cut on my lip reopened and the taste of blood trickled into my mouth as she kissed me harder. She paused suddenly, tasting it too, and opened her eyes. All I could see was that deep mahogany shade of her irises and the dark pupils darting back and forth as she looked from one of my eyes to the other, as if unsure if she were hurting me. My only response was to resume kissing her, with added fervor because I did not want to stop. At first she seemed to be resisting, then eventually indulged, ignoring the blood as I was. It was inconsequential. I was not about to let anything stop us.

It was all perfect. Much too perfect. Closing my eyes, the immediate darkness seemed only to amplify the sensations I felt with her – the rough rug of her hand through my hair, the desperate hungry kisses that I could not break free of even if I wanted to. Dimly aware of a vague scratching sound echoing inside my head, I tried to block out everything but her. I wanted her as I'd never wanted anything else.

Suddenly, her body stiffened beneath me and a short sharp cry escaped her lips. "Ah! S-Stop!"

The cry of her voice snapped me from the dim haziness of desire and I opened my eyes. My hands were holding both her wrists tightly against the wall, my fingers wrapped hard over the bruises. Immediately I released her, franticly, upset that I had managed to hurt her again without any explicit knowledge of my actions. I did not remember moving my hands over hers like that in the slightest.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized at once, my lust entirely gone. The moment had been killed.

My lack of control terrified me to no end. I would not hurt her again. I _refused_ to hurt her again. Tifa was leaning back against the wall, one hand wiping away a trace of my blood from her bottom lip, a deeply troubled look in her eyes.

"No. I can't do this," I said rapidly, a new fear dawning over me, "I won't."

"Cloud? ...You're shaking."

"I'm leaving," I decided. There was no way I would stay near her if the possibility of me harming her again was that high. The voice and the dreams had never really been an active threat. Now that I had lost control while conscious... But I would _not_ allow myself to hurt her anymore.

Without looking back at her, I stormed out in heightened alarm. The enemy was within me and I could not escape it. I just had to get away from Tifa before I did something horrible again. I did not pause until I was outside, several blocks down the street with the warm night air blanketed around me and the faint laughter resonating in my head. Now I was truly frightened. Adrenaline rushed fast through me, muscles tensed as though the threat was external. If only it were that simple.

The streets were hardly deserted even in the middle of the night, and I walked onward through the sparse groups of late-nighters, uncaring of the light drizzle and the dark clouds accumulating above, panicking every time I heard a faint whisper in my ear. A raw hopelessness grasped me harshly. Bitterness tore at my thoughts because I knew Tifa was right about everything. Seeking ShinRa's help suddenly felt like a very viable option. And truthfully, I would do anything for her, regardless of how much I disliked ShinRa. There was no way in hell I would let myself hurt Tifa again.

The new ShinRa building was halfway across the city, but I was determined to reach it and demand they undo everything they'd done. I hated ShinRa for so many reasons, but those didn't matter anymore. I simply didn't care in light of this new threat. I just wanted the Jenova cells out of me for good. And if there was any way it could actually be done, I would do it. If not for my sake alone, then for Tifa.


	3. Fragments

_Chapter Three - Fragments_

* * *

Arriving at the ominous steel building, I glared up at its cold façade made of scrap metal from Midgar. Unable to stifle the anger growing in my chest, I pushed open the entrance door of the ShinRa headquarters and entered. The lobby was just as cold and gray as the outside, with a single large wooden desk to one side and a banner with the red ShinRa logo gleaming along the far wall above two elevators. There was a single guard dozing at a large metal reception desk. I approached him, the Jenova cells contracting within me, and the heavy dizziness only growing worse. Rather clumsily, I stumbled towards the desk, the bright red logo burning in my vision. Reaching across the table, I grabbed the sleeping man by his collar and jerked him towards me, gritting my teeth against the pain spreading in my mind.

Immediately, his eyes snapped open and widened, startled. "Whoa! Who the hell -?"

"Rufus Shinra. Where is he?" I demanded, tightening my fist around the fabric of his shirt.

"Wha-what?"

"You heard me. Rufus Shinra. I need to ..." _Reunion._ I paused only for a second, pushing the voice away. "I need to speak with him. Now!"

The fear on the night guard's face was unmistakable. He was young, just some part-time worker. Nobody important. It was possible he didn't have an answer for me. Eventually he sputtered a reply, "N-No way! What do you want with him, anyways?"

I said nothing, throwing him back against the wall with a sudden burst of strength and made my way through the lobby towards the double doors next to the elevator at the end of the hall. Anger was flowing through me with each breath like electricity, and the voice was constantly chattering now, repeating the same word over and over. I needed it to stop. I needed to find someone to help me.

The first floor was empty for the night – mostly just offices, all locked. None of the names were familiar. I wanted nothing more than to destroy anything in my path, and cursed the fact that I didn't bring my sword with me. My eyes were filling with red. Red everywhere. Every banner, every corridor. I tore through the hallways, intent on finding anything, something. I no longer felt a purpose in going there, only a desperate need to silence the persistent rising demands inside me. Clawing. A deep pain.

A staircase led up dozens of flights. I went up, certain that something was here that I needed. Something that I wanted. The Jenova activity was heightening and I became fearful that it would attempt to assert its dominance over me. I was running out of time.

Finally, on the fourth floor, I saw light bleeding through the cracks of a door at the end of the hall. Without a moment's pause, I thrust open the door and entered, ready to beg or just demand for something to be done. The voice was whispering constantly, strings of incoherent words, pulling me.

A woman with short black hair was bent over a microscope, dark circles under her eyes, and a look of pure exhaustion on her face as she peered at me in annoyance and slight interest.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked blankly, standing up straight and folding her arms across her abdomen, the folds of the white lab coat hanging off her thin body.

"I need help," I managed to say between breaths, "Jenova."

The realization was telling in her face as her brows arched upwards, her mouth opening just a bit. She stepped back, steadying herself with one hand on the metal countertop and briskly looked away.

"Jenova. My gods..." she trailed off, softly.

"I want it cut out." My voice was low and ominous. "Cut out," I emphasized loudly.

"You're... Cloud Strife?"

_Cloud._

A brief lapse of blue light flooded my vision and I blinked it away, a hiss of static cutting through my head for a second.

"Hojo," I tried to explain, though my words were disjointed and incomprehensible, "He did this. I want it out."

"Wait, slow down. How did you...?"

"Remove... it..." It was getting harder to speak, the horrific static growing louder.

"This can only mean..." she spoke softly to herself, watching me.

"I don't give a damn what it means!" I shouted suddenly, the pain burning through my throat, the red dripping over my sight, "I don't care. Just help me."

"Ok, ok, just relax," she said to me quickly, obviously distressed. Frantically, she began searching for something behind her amongst the assorted tools on the metal table. I noticed her hand reaching slowly for the phone on her desk.

"No!" I yelled, grabbing her arm forcibly. "No, you're not calling anyone. You can help me, I know it." The words just fell from me though I couldn't exactly understand the strange pull, the undeniable knowledge that whatever could help me was nearby. I had been brought there for a reason.

"F-Fine," she stuttered, "I can't believe this. I can't believe the theory was right."

"What?" I could barely hear her over the white hissing in my ears.

"Nothing, I..." She stopped talking and fumbled around the row of instruments, still searching for something. "I can't just..."

"What?!" I demanded, increasingly irritated.

_Cloud. Reunion. Come back to me._

"What!?" I shouted at her through the fog impeding my senses.

"It's ... nothing," she responded automatically, her voice a bit brighter and she appeared to have found whatever it was she was looking for. "This will help..." she told me.

I glanced up at her through the thickening layer of hazy red, her voice barely audible through the static. A tiny glint in her hand caused pure panic to jump through me. A needle. I wanted to run, suddenly, but my body was unresponsive. The doctor stepped towards me, the needle held out. But the fear was dissipating; the horrid urgency to satisfy the wordless demands in my head was fading fast. Everything felt ... alright, like it was all meant to happen.

"What is that?" I asked warily, uncertain whether or not to trust my instincts and run or stay because it felt _right_.

"It will help you... Just relax," she repeated steadily, her eyes never leaving mine.

_Yes. _

The single affirming word pounded in my head, distracting me horribly. The voice had never said it before. I turned to the side, trying to hear it more though the static. Red still blotted my vision. And a tiny sudden pain in my arm drew my attention back into reality. I twisted around to face the doctor again, and noticed the syringe stuck in my arm, the plunger depressed.

She gazed at me through narrowed eyes as though examining a rare scientific event. I tore the needle out and threw it down, hearing it spin across the tiles. Instantly, a numbing sensation was spreading through my veins, arching up my arm. The red began fading to black.

"What... did you do to me?" my voice sounded so distant.

She did not reply. I felt nothing more and dropped to the ground, letting go of the intense anxiety and desperate need that had possessed me. I would have thanked her, but I was already gone.

* * *

I awoke to a severe nausea grinding in my stomach, to find myself lying facedown on a cold tiled floor in darkness. I rolled over and curled up, my arms across my abdomen, gritting my teeth against the pain. There was sweat on my face and my throat felt dry and sore. The muscles in my arms and legs hurt so badly I could barely move. Muttering a curse, I tried to recollect exactly what had happened, but found my memory strangely blank. As my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I saw that I was not in complete darkness because there were several dim lights across the room, low like desk lamps perched on a table. A rolling pain suddenly curved along my ribs and I gripped my stomach tighter, trying to curb the feeling. I could not identify the sensation within me, almost as though I were missing some vital part. The emptiness was unsettling. It was definitely not Mako poisoning, though I had the strangest idea that it was somehow along those same lines.

A door opened somewhere near the other end of the room and light flooded in temporarily exposing the room's interior. It was a plain room with nothing but a desk along the far wall where the lamps sat and a shelf with various objects I could not name, test tubes and beakers, books and stacks of papers. Light footsteps entered and someone flicked on the light overhead. A low buzz of fluorescent bulbs accompanied the bright white burning my eyes.

"Are you alright?" a voice called from the doorway. It was the female doctor.

I rubbed my eyes, opening them slightly while they adjusted to the light and peered over at her.

"Where am I?" I asked at once.

"ShinRa's science department, in my office, a door over from my lab room."

The nausea grew worse. "What the hell did you do to me?"

She walked over, hands grasped tightly in front of her. "I'm saving you," she said softly, then raised her voice and added, "I'm sorry about the pain. You've been injected with a Mako inhibitor."

I cringed. "What...?"

"I'm afraid I never got a chance to test it before, so I apologize. But you were, uh, frightening me before..." she said cautiously.

"Reverse it. Reverse whatever the hell you did," I begged, the pain growing unbearable with each passing second.

"I afraid I don't know how. But its effects are meant to be temporary. It's one of my own creations – a synthesized inhibitor meant to block the chemical reactions between Mako and any human cells," she explained coldly, "I didn't realize the effect would be this ... drastic. It seems your body can't handle the severed link. Fascinating, really. It shouldn't last much longer though, so don't worry."

I couldn't respond, partially because my throat felt so dry and partially because I was incredibly angry.

"But," she went on, "I can help you with the Jenova."

This caught my attention and I stared up at her. A certain indescribable moment of anxiety held the world still.

"I don't really understand it all myself, but somehow the theories were correct," she muttered, and began searching for something amidst the assorted objects scattered across the desk.

The voice in my head was speaking nonstop now, a constant whisper, but the words no longer made sense.

"Ah, here it is," she exhaled and turned to me with a look of apprehension. In her hands she held a vial filled with dark viscous liquid. Immediately the voice inside me quickened, the tone excited and screaming.

"What... is that?" I managed to ask finally.

"You don't know already?" she responded incredulously.

I gripped my stomach tighter, turning away in an attempt to block the intensifying nausea, but nothing would help it.

"My gods... You really don't understand?" she continued, still amazed, but why – I had no idea.

"What is it?" I asked again in a strained whisper.

"It's Jenova."

Adrenaline pumped harder through me at the mention of _it._

"That's... impossible..." I told her through clenched teeth.

"We've found a way to replicate the trace amount of cells found in the Northern Crater after the Kadaj incident."

My horror was beyond anything I'd felt before. "No... No, that can't be true."

"These cloned cells... Well, I've read all of Hojo's personal files and studied his theories. I didn't realize he was right about the reunion theory." Her voice sounded so harmless, innocent to what the thing she held was capable of doing.

"Why..? Why would you...?" My anger had melted away into cold fear.

"I just do what I'm paid to do. And I'm sorry, Cloud Strife, but I'm only following orders." A hint of melancholy played in her tone.

"You don't understand what Jenova is," I said, shaking my head.

"You're right. I don't know what this is," she eyed the black liquid carefully, "And I don't know what it does. Given the volatile nature of the Jenova substance, this replicated batch could just end up destabilizing and becoming nothing but mush. So you're right, we don't know. But that's exactly where you come in."

"Me...?"

"Hojo predicted that Jenova would always reunite, and if we really want to study it further, we have to confirm that these cloned pieces will behave identical to the original. And you're the only one left on the planet with pure Jenova cells. My superiors informed me that you would most likely be drawn to the cells once we completed this first bit," she held up the vial again for emphasis, "But I didn't believe them. And yet here you are."

"No, wait," I was slowly putting together her intentions in my head, "You're not... seriously considering... using that...?" Speaking was difficult; my tongue felt numb.

"I have to. In the name of science, we have to affirm the properties of these cells!" she exclaimed and turned away briefly, working with something outside of my line of sight on her desk. There was a tiny clink of metal against glass, but the static in my head suddenly returned. The Jenova cells within me were reacting again, spiking pain through my body.

"Wait..." I called weakly in protest, but the inhibitor had done too much damage. Although I couldn't explicitly feel the lack of Mako interaction, it was obvious that my body was in shock. The fact that she had completely incapacitated me after I asked for help infuriated me to no end, yet I could do nothing.

When she faced me again, I noticed she was again holding a large syringe. Only this time, it was filled with that dark inky substance. The cloned Jenova cells. Absolute terror flew through my bones, but the inhibitor had me paralyzed. The voice was screaming faster and louder, blocking out all other sound, and the doctor advanced slowly, needle pointing upwards, one finger readied on the plunger.

All at once I felt like I was back in the ShinRa mansion's basement. Back when I first awoke after the fire with a splitting pain in my chest and a stab through my gut. The first thing I had seen was Hojo's white pointed face peering through a green haze, a needle in one hand. And now he was standing in front of me, resurrected and grinning wildly, as though he had gotten the last laugh, as though he knew death couldn't touch him or save me. Jenova. Everywhere now. Inside and outside. She was calling to me, holding me.

"Get away from me!" I shouted, knowing full well the situation was helpless. The needle only drew closer. Hojo only smiled wider. I could not escape.

"I'm sorry. I'm only following orders." The doctor's words truly sounded apologetic.

A tiny sting in my arm, followed by the violent rush of incredible pain, broke all notion of resistance into pieces. Then suddenly, everything became calm. The voice in my head abruptly ceased talking, and I collapsed, the cold tiles at my cheek. A deep shade of purple consumed my vision before I let go and drifted off.

* * *

I dreamt of falling into a pool of black ooze. It filled my lungs, suffocating me. And the voice... the voice was talking constantly, but I couldn't hear it clearly because I was lost beneath the thick liquid. The faintest scent of flowers swirled around me, dissipating the awful smell of rot that accompanied the dark fathomless ocean. But soon that too was swallowed as I sank underwater.

With a sudden jolt, I awoke, immediate pain spreading through my body once more. Cringing, I opened my eyes slowly, moving to sit up and take in my surroundings. There was cold metal beneath me and bits of light streaming through the blinds over a window directly to my left. My muscles felt weak with atrophy, but the horrible nausea that I had felt before was gone. I was lying on a surgical bed in the center of an unfamiliar sterile-looking room with no other furnishings around me.

Immediately, I realized the voice in my head was gone. Gone completely. My thoughts were ... silent. Empty. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes, standing up with much difficulty. There were a dozen needle marks down my left arm, some tiny red dots with soft yellowish bruises surrounding them. I took out my phone to check the time, but it had ran out of batteries and sat dead in my palm. The only door in the room was locked tight and I was much too weak to even try to kick it down. Staggering to the window, I opened the blinds to reveal dawn crawling over Edge. It was evident at once that I was still in the ShinRa building.

The sound of a doorknob turning grabbed my attention and I looked towards the door with new interest.

The female doctor from before stepped in, but paused immediately once she spotted me.

"Oh, you're awake finally," she said politely, as though she hadn't tried to ...wait. Everything suddenly snapped in my head.

"You. What did you do to me?" I asked at once, remembering the needle in her hand.

"Well... I guess it didn't work..."

"What did you do to me?!" I shouted, feeling my palms clench into fists.

"Wait, don't be angry. I was only following orders," she hurried to say, holding up her hands as if to push me away.

"Just tell me what the hell that shit was," I continued, not at all amused. The voice that had been haunting me had left, but I wanted to know exactly why. It had something to do with Jenova.

"The cloned Jenova cells. I explained it to you before. You don't remember?" she asked, genuine concern in her voice.

I thought carefully. Cloned Jenova cells.

"And the Mako inhibitor," she went on evenly, "It was only temporary, just like I said, right? The effects should have worn off by now..."

"The Jenova. What were you trying to do?" An awful sense of despair was sinking into my chest. ShinRa was still fucking around with Jenova after all that's happened, after all the terrible crises that thing had brought.

She simply stared at me, the whites of her eyes glistening in the dim morning light.

"Answer me!" I yelled in a panic. "Why was ShinRa...? Why the fuck did you use that shit on me?!"

"It was inevitable! You showed up, just as the theory predicted!" she responded in defense, her voice shrill.

"How long have you kept me here?" I asked, fuming. But I had to control my temper if I wanted answers. She was only getting more frightened, judging by the expression on her face.

"I-I haven't kept you anywhere! You're free to leave whenever you wish!" she shouted back, "I only came in to check on you like I have been!"

I stifled the urge to rip her lungs out. "How long... have I been here?" I asked again, forcibly keeping my voice quiet.

"Four days," came the tiny response.

"Four days? I was... I was asleep for four days?"

"Comatose, actually. I was worried the damage was irreparable. So, I'm very happy to see that you're okay," she responded, clearly upset yet keeping her voice equally calm.

Four days. Four days completely at the mercy of some sick ShinRa experiment, some twisted little continuation of a dead man's work. Four days unconscious while that thing sifted through my cells. The damage the cloned cells could have done... but there was no way I could know. All I had was the knowledge that I no longer heard some phantom voice in my head, but what did that really mean? Nothing was certain. Except that four days had flashed by. Four days ... without contacting Tifa.

I cursed sharply under my breath. Tifa would be angry that I had been gone for so long without any word. The last time I had seen her, I had stormed out without explanation because I was so terrified of hurting her again.

"I'm leaving," I announced to the doctor, who still stood at the door, her mouth hanging open in shock. "Unless you're going to try and stop me."

"N-No... Not at all, but it's just..." the doctor seemed hesitant.

"What? What else do you want?" I snapped, irritated.

"Did the Reunion work?" she inquired innocently.

There was a long pause as I considered her question. It frightened me a bit – the tone she used as if disappointed that I hadn't been whatever she had hoped for.

"There is no such thing," I replied and pushed past her, not caring for anything other than going back home and reaching Tifa.

The doctor did not try to stop me. In fact, nobody else in the building did as I passed by early morning employees sipping from coffee cups. The entire floor of the science department seemed to pause as I walked through the halls, still in a daze. I felt as though an unspoken affirmation of success glinted in their eyes as the other scientists watched me, studied me. Filled with disgust, I made my way to the staircase and exited the building in a sort of frenzy to return to Tifa. Everything within me felt ... strange, though I couldn't pinpoint why. It was those supposed cloned Jenova cells in my blood, no doubt, but I told myself that I would deal with ShinRa later. At that moment, my only concern was finding Tifa.

Outside the morning air was light and cold. I hurried back towards the bar. The astounding relief that I could no longer hear that voice made me feel like I could breathe better and the colors of the world seemed more vibrant and cheerful. In a moment's passing, I felt almost thankful for whatever that doctor had done to me. I had asked for her help, and though not conventional in the slightest, the injection of replicated cells had somehow made me feel ... happy. Yes, that was it. Happiness. The turmoil that had constantly plagued my mind was silent and dead. It had settled into a soft oblivion, and yet for once, I did not feel alone.


	4. Infestation of Paranoia

_Chapter Four - Infestation of Paranoia  
_

* * *

It was still too early in the day for the bar to be open, judging by the sun's low position in the sky, and Tifa would have been asleep. A new panic was beginning to take hold of me, because the very idea of ShinRa cloning Jenova cells had given me shivers. Hadn't they learned their lesson with Sephiroth? But whatever ShinRa's intentions were, I was clearly an integral part of their plan. I was afraid of the potential damage the cloned cells could do to my own Jenova. And what of the Mako inhibitor? Had it had any lasting side-effects? Physically I felt fine, yet something felt _wrong._ A million thoughts raced through my head, faster than I could concentrate on any single one, and I was swept away in a disorganized collection of intense fears spawning from the confusing bits of information. It was disorienting and aggravating. But all of that would have to wait at least until I saw Tifa.

Pushing open the door, I was surprised to find Tifa already downstairs still dressed in her pajamas drinking a cup of coffee. She did not smile when she saw me, though. I rushed over and grabbed her by the arms.

"Tifa! Tifa – tell me, please," I said frantically, holding her to face me, "Tifa, how long have I been gone? What shade are my eyes?"

"Ow! Let go of me, Cloud," she replied angrily, twisting her arms out of my grasp, "I'm getting really sick of these little disappearing acts."

"Just answer my questions, Tifa," I insisted.

"Four." She looked up at me for a second. "And blue as always. What is this about?"

"Four days. So the doctor was right..." I muttered to myself. I hurriedly went over to the mirror perched along the wall behind the bar counter and glanced at my reflection. Dimly luminescent blue stared back. So the Mako inhibitor was gone, as well. I let out a sigh of relief.

"Cloud... You told Marlene you'd take her to the Gold Saucer for her birthday..." Tifa went on in a reproachful tone.

"What?" I didn't understand the relevance.

"And her birthday was two days ago. Where have you been?"

"Oh. I, uh, well..." I couldn't tell her what had happened. I did not want her involved.

"I don't understand why you do this to us. We're your family! At least give me a phone call if you're going to be away for more than two days. I was worried sick that something horrible had happened to you! I just kept getting this awful feeling..."

I did not say anything because it was suddenly dawning on me how connected Tifa and I were. Had she really been able to sense that I was in trouble, or was it just some clever way of making me feel guilty?

"And there's something else..." her voice was much softer suddenly.

"Yes, Tifa, what's wrong?" I asked immediately, drawing closer to her.

"Cloud... I've been feeling sick lately."

"Sick? What do you mean? What's wrong?" Something felt horribly off.

"Ever since that night when you hurt me..."

"Yes? What? What's wrong!?" It pained me to think of what I had done while lost inside that voice.

"I've felt ... strange."

"Tell me! Describe it!" I yelled suddenly, horrified at what I had done to her.

"I've been hearing things, and... and having these dreams."

"Hearing things? Like what?"

She took a deep breath and looked me straight in the eye, and I saw a deep fear I'd never seen in her before.

"What does Jenova feel like?" she asked me plainly.

"What? Why?" No, no, no. It was all making sense, slowly, terribly.

"It's like there's a second presence within me. I've felt almost like a pulling sensation, and I'm hearing whispers at night," she told me furtively, as though divulging a huge secret.

"Second presence?" I repeated stupidly because my brain was too consumed with horror to come up with a decent response. I wanted to laugh, almost, at the pure absurdity of the situation. But it all made sudden absolute sense. A cold shudder went down my spine. "It was the blood," I mumbled, reality hitting hard and fast. "My blood."

"What...?" Her voice was low and frightened.

"My blood. The dreams I'd been having. It was Jenova. It was Jenova the whole time," I went on, speaking in fragments because the rush of realization had stunned me entirely.

"Cloud, you don't think that... You don't think maybe the cells have somehow gotten into me?"

I stepped away from her, moving towards the bar counter to steady myself against it. I covered my face with one hand, suddenly feeling nauseous.

"Yeah. That's exactly what..." I paused, feeling the heavy weight of guilt, "That's exactly what I did to you. The blood must've..."

The dreams of blood had started a month ago, and it was Jenova that demanded bloodshed. I never put it all together because I assumed all of the Jenova cells were dead except for my own. I never imagined ShinRa had been still experimenting with the stuff. And then I had hurt Tifa in some sort of altered state. The blood in my mouth. In her mouth. That's how it infected her. The bloody wound on her shoulder, the smooth red ribbon sliding down her side. It had wanted me to infect her, but why? Did it realize how few cells were left in the world and wanted to duplicate itself? Then I remembered the doctor's words. Reunion. No, it had felt the other cells nearby. But why Tifa?

"What should I do? How do I make it stop?" she asked rapidly.

I knew she wouldn't like the answer. "You don't," I said succinctly.

She was frozen, staring at me as though I had just told her another Meteor had been summoned. "But... but there must be a way. I mean, how did you...?" she trailed off

"It will never go away, but it will sometimes die down if you aren't near any other pieces of Jenova cells." I didn't want to tell her that I mostly just ignored it when I could because it never really stopped. And I certainly did not want to mention that I had never felt the cells react the way they have in the past few days since Sephiroth died.

Her complexion was pallid, her mouth slightly open in shock and her eyes holding the saddest expression I had ever seen. Slowly, she stepped towards me.

"Tifa," I began quickly, "As long as I'm near you, it won't stop. Ever."

"What are you saying?" she asked sadly, though I had an idea she knew exactly what I was implying.

"I..." It was so hard to speak suddenly, "I can't be around you."

"No... No, that can't be the only way to solve this," she stressed, tilting her head to one side. For a second she closed her eyes tightly, as if trying to push away a thought. Or a voice.

"Listen, I don't know exactly what will happen to me," I went on, trying not be affected by her obvious distress, "And I can't risk anything more happening to you. You're too important to me."

"But you can't just leave now! We can find a way around it. We don't even know for certain if it _is_ Jenova cells or not!" she continued.

I thought carefully for several seconds in the immediate silence that followed. My world had just been thrown into utter chaos with this new revelation that Tifa was now a part of the thing that haunted me. I had brought her into a nightmare.

Eventually, I met her troubled gaze, and spoke carefully, "Tifa, I don't know what will happen to me or you. But just in case I never have another chance to talk to you like this –"

"Don't say that!" she cut me off desperately, "Everything will be fine!"

I continued calmly, "Just in case I never have another chance... I just want you to know that, no matter what, I've always felt..." I was struggling for the right words, "I've already felt a special bond with you. And whatever happens, I want you to know that you're very important to me. Just remember that." I love you.

She looked at me, surprised. "Do you mean that?" her voice shook.

"Yes," I whispered back.

"Stop talking like it's the end," she scolded and sudden tears spilled down her cheeks.

She stepped forward and embraced me, tucking her chin against my shoulder and I felt her body sigh. Holding her seemed to make everything feel better. But the beauty in that moment was shattered shortly after by the growing anger in my chest. I was furious with ShinRa. They had been the cause of all this. They had done this to me, had facilitated in ruining Tifa's life. And that's what this was afterall – Jenova would ruin her. It consumed everything in its path, leaving a wake of insanity for those who survived.

I had to see Rufus Shinra and demand he explain what the hell he thought to accomplish by cloning Jenova cells. I needed an answer that would douse the intense rage surfacing. Abruptly, I held Tifa by the waist and gently pushed her away.

"I'm sorry, Tif," I said briskly, and kissed her quickly on the mouth, a part of me wondering if it would be the last time.

Before she could answer or protest my leaving, I walked out, shutting the door of the bar tight behind me. There were several thoughts swimming in my head, a torrent of anger and fear. I knew at once that I could lose control at any moment; succumb to the power of Jenova, just like in the past. I could feel it within me, waiting. I couldn't be trusted anymore. I couldn't trust myself to take care of Tifa and not harm her in any way. If the past was any indication of what Jenova was capable of, then I knew for certain I would hurt her again if I didn't do something about it. I had to get some insurance against myself. Fenrir was still parked outside, near the side of the bar, and I retrieved my sword from its folds, sheathing the damn thing on my back before continuing on my way.

Once on the street again, I searched for the nearest pay phone since my own phone was dead. Frantically, I dialed the number of the only person I trusted enough to understand the situation.

"...Who is this?" his low voice muttered ominously from the phone after a dozen rings.

"Vincent, I need a favor," I replied quickly.

"Cloud. Why are you calling me from a pay phone?" he sounded almost disdainful.

"Long story. Just listen. I need you to promise me something."

"Go on."

"If something ever happens to me... will you protect Tifa?"

The complete silence for several seconds made me think he had simply hung up. Then he responded, "...Why would I have to do that?"

"Because..." I stumbled to think of a good excuse, but finding none, simply said, "Something's happened to me and I don't think Tifa is safe with me anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just please, will you do me this favor?" I stressed, not wanting to explicitly answer his question.

"... Of course. But tell me what's happened."

"I can't. Just keep Tifa safe from me!" I shouted suddenly.

"Safe _from_ you?"

I said nothing for a while, silently cursing myself for saying that.

"Cloud," Vincent continued, speaking sternly, "Tell me why you think you're going to hurt her."

If I told him the truth, then perhaps he would realize how important my request was and how desperately I needed to ensure her safety.

"It's Jenova..." I started softly, glancing around to make sure nobody else was close enough to hear. "ShinRa has been experimenting with cloning Jenova cells and ... and I got caught up in some mess, and now those cells are ... a part of me," I reluctantly stated.

"... What?" he asked slowly in disbelief, as if processing the information and the problem it presented.

"So I don't know what will happen to me. I don't know if _it_ will happen again..."

"Cloud, wait a moment. I know what you're afraid of happening, but Sephiroth is dead. You won't lose control."

I didn't want to talk to him anymore, because there was nothing more to say. "Just promise me you'll protect Tifa," I insisted softly.

"Fine."

I hung up and immediately felt a little better knowing that at least someone would be with Tifa if I fell into an altered state once more like I did the night I attacked her. The ShinRa building was my next destination. I was going to find Rufus Shinra and cut his fucking heart out if he didn't answer my questions.

Rufus wasn't difficult to find, after threatening several of the guards in the lobby and another twenty employees on the top floor, I found his office at the summit of the new ShinRa building in a glass office overlooking all of Edge. Nobody cared to cross my path now that I had a weapon. But when I threw open his office door, Rufus simply looked up at me from his desk, unfazed, and took another sip from his coffee mug.

"Please don't tell me you killed anyone in my building trying to get up here," he said apathetically, "Why did you come to me?"

"You know exactly why I'm here," I growled in return, slamming the flat side of the sword across his desk.

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," he replied smugly, brushing back a renegade strand of blonde hair with his palm.

"The Jenova cells. What the hell were you trying to do?"

"Ah, that," he smiled knowingly.

I reached across the desk and grabbed the white collar of his suit, dragging him towards me menacingly. "Tell me why you were developing it! Tell me why you had that doctor use it on me!"

"Let go of me," he spat.

Holding back the urge to punch him in the face, I silently released his collar and he leaned back in his chair, brushing the front of his suit with his fingertips and clearing his throat.

"You don't understand anything, Cloud," he stated with a sigh.

"Why the hell did you let them use that shit on me?"

He turned to stare out the large window with his hands clasped behind his back. His posture and the weary look as he gazed out struck me as the expression of a man who had lost everything. If he were anyone else, I would have felt the slightest notion of pity.

"This city needs stability," he started to explain, "And the name ShinRa must remain a definite symbol of strength and triumph; a name that has seen this city through the Meteor crisis and has prevailed along with its people. The population needs progress, needs a familiar piece of greatness to latch onto and associate with. This city needs ShinRa." He turned and looked back at me, the city shining through the window behind him.

"That doesn't explain –"

"ShinRa," he interrupted me quickly, "ShinRa needs to clear its name of its past atrocities. I do not share my father's eccentric attitude towards business opportunities. Experimentation with Jenova was the worst thing that's ever happened to this company, and I'll be happy to finally blot that name from the pages of our history forever."

"Oh come on, Rufus. That's a load of shit." I almost laughed. "Then why the Jenova cells?"

"I'll be honest with you, Cloud. I don't believe in the power of Jenova like Sephiroth or Hojo did. I want the madness associated with that _thing_ to die just as much as you do. But there are certain people within this company who hold political rank and wish to push the Jenova experimentation. You wouldn't understand the running of a company, Cloud, but I do. Some people will never be satisfied which is why you must break whatever it is they hold dear and show them the pieces to truly silence them."

I remained quiet, listening carefully. I didn't trust him for a second, yet I was curious what lies he would make up.

"The Jenova project continued in our science division with my blessing, but only because I wanted to prove to them that it wouldn't work. I wanted those who supported the Jenova project to see that it was nothing but trouble. And so I obliged to their wishes and allowed the science to continue. I allowed those obsessive idiots to find a way to replicate the cells. I told them that if it were truly Jenova's cells, that Hojo's Reunion Theory would once more come to fruition and that you in particular would seek them out to fulfill that reunion."

It was beginning to make sense. I was pulled towards the ShinRa building that night because of the cells housed within.

"So," Rufus continued, "I told those in charge that if you _did_ show up, they should use all of the remaining cloned cells on you."

"You _what_?! You-You told them to do that to me!?" I screamed in a sudden rage.

"Wait, wait," he held his hand up, "Please let me continue."

I was so furious I could hardly think straight. I wanted to kill him.

"Don't you see?" he went on, "Now that their precious experiment has been carried out and you have completed the so-called reunion, they will have no reason to continue. Their work on the Jenova project will end because it's obvious that their efforts were all for nothing. This reunion was a failure, since you are plainly standing right here – coherent and just as irritating as ever. The cells did nothing; therefore, I can declare the work as wasted effort. I can tell them that cloning technique is imperfect and can never replicate the true nature of the Jenova cells. I can tell them that you are the only one carrying pure Jenova cells and that their cloned pieces of trash did nothing to you. I can finally silence them!"

"You... You used me," I hissed through clenched teeth. "You fucking used me for your little political scientist rivalry bullshit!"

"Calm down, Cloud. Don't you see what this has accomplished? Don't you see that now ShinRa can move on from its past, can move away from Jenova? I can say it's a lost cause without losing political favor! And this world is a much better place without Jenova cells running amok, don't you agree?" He smiled sinisterly at me. "And ShinRa can remain a dominant part of this city."

"I don't care what good you think it's caused! You used me and you don't even understand how severe the consequence could be!" I shouted, amazed at his stupidity.

He started laughing lowly. "You seem fine to me! No less of a nuisance than any other day!"

"You really are the one who doesn't understand," I responded, then immediately thought of Tifa. "When did this little project start?" I asked.

"The cells were created a little over a month ago," he said and turned back towards the window.

A month ago. Exactly when the dreams began. So the Jenova cells within me were reacting to the cloned cells ShinRa had created.

"You really have no idea what you've done," I told Rufus again, shaking my head, "You better have a way to reverse it."

"ShinRa is done with Jenova, Cloud."

"You better find a way to remove it," I continued, my voice low and intimidating, "Or I'll fucking kill you."

He swiveled around to face me once more, a look of contempt on his face. Suddenly, the door behind us opened and two black suits entered, one more disheveled than the other. Reno and Rude.

"Someone botherin' you, prez?" Reno's voice called over my shoulder.

"No, nobody," Rufus replied, grinning at me. "Escort this bothersome gentleman out, please."

Reno stood right behind me, chewing the end of a toothpick with his baton resting on his shoulder. Rude glared at me, his mouth a thin line.

"C'mon, leave the prez alone, yo," Reno sneered, his Mako filled eyes watching me with mild interest, like a spider anticipating the catch of a fly.

"Get away from me," I responded harshly, picking my sword off Rufus' desk, "I can find the way out myself."

Pushing past the loud red-head and his silent stoic partner, I left the glass office with nothing but fury burning through me. Rufus had actually thought that allowing his scientists to experiment with Jenova on me was a good thing. He truly believed he was saving his company's name and his own position as president. Incredible. And yet...

And yet hadn't he said that he told his scientists I would be drawn to the cells because of the reunion theory? And isn't that exactly what had happened? Why had I gone to get ShinRa's help in the first place? What was my initial reason... ?

The answer hit me hard. Tifa. Tifa had told me to go to ShinRa and seek their help. Tifa had insisted that I ask ShinRa to find a way to remove the Jenova cells. Was it possible Tifa had known about Rufus' scheme? Was it just slightly conceivable that she was in on it? That she wanted the Jenova nonsense to end just as much as he did? Why else would she even mention ShinRa given the horrid past we've both had with them? No, it couldn't be... And yet all the evidence in my head pointed straight to it.

Tifa had betrayed me. To ShinRa.


	5. Drug

_Chapter Five - Drug_

* * *

Cold calm night air invigorated me, the sky a black void above, a light rain in the air like mist. Walking back towards her bar, I realized I could breathe better and think clearer than ever before. Each Jenova cell within me was moving, writhing, yet it was comforting. For once, I felt in control, unstoppable. Several people were out on the streets, but I pushed past all of them with little interest, my mind focused on a single goal.

It wasn't very late, and yet I found the bar closed. I knew Tifa couldn't be asleep because there was a light still on downstairs. Calmly, I unlocked the door and entered.

Vincent and Tifa were sitting together in the otherwise empty bar but Vincent immediately stood, obviously startled by me.

"Vincent!" I said at once, not expecting to see him there.

Tifa's voice wavered, completely distraught, "Vincent told me about the Jenova, about what happened to you..."

"You told her?" I shouted at Vincent, infuriated.

I told him specifically not to tell Tifa what had been going on with me. Why had I even bothered to confide in anyone? Now she's involved. And I had tried very hard not to get her involved.

"Cloud, she had to know," he said, moving directly between myself and Tifa.

Wait a minute...

"But... she already knew. Didn't you, Tifa? You knew all along," I called to her. Vincent didn't move, but continued glaring at me.

"Don't say anything to him," Vincent said sideways to Tifa.

"Why shouldn't she say anything? Because it's true? Because I'm right?" I yelled, swept away in anger at the betrayal in my head.

"You were right about only one thing, Cloud..." Vincent took a step towards me, Tifa still at his back.

"Vincent, leave," I cut him off. "I just want to... talk with Tifa."

He didn't move. But there was something different about Tifa. Something alive within her, beating in sync with me, calling to me. Vincent remained between us but I needed to get near Tifa. Something was pulling me towards her, yet...

"Tifa, come here..." I called to her desperately, enthralled with the motion inside of her.

Vincent decisively blocked my vision of her, but I knew she was still sitting there. However, she didn't move either. It was clear to me that they were both against me, but I wasn't concerned with that at the moment. I simply wanted to talk with Tifa...

I continued, agitated, "What...? What is this? You don't trust me? Neither of you trust me? Or perhaps it's me that shouldn't trust you."

Tifa stirred, perhaps affected by my words, but Vincent remained stoic. It was impossible to think clearly with that strange sensation compelling me to call to her.

"Tifa...come here," I said calmly again, my patience wearing out.

If only she would simply confirm or deny my suspicions regarding her involvement with Rufus. But she was silent, at Vincent's order. I had to change that.

"Tifa!" I shouted in a burst of anger.

Suddenly, she cried out in pain, and stood.

Vincent's horrified eyes went to mine. "Let her go!"

For only a second I was confused by his remark, and then I realized, almost with a sort of terror, what that awful feeling suspended within her actually was.

I could feel the Jenova within Tifa's body. I could take hold of it, if I wanted to. The cells were bending to my wishes. I wanted her to stand, so she stood. The control brought me immeasurable pleasure. I smiled.

"Come here, Tifa," I said firmly once more, concentrating on the sensation floating inside her body.

She took a few steps towards me, arms twisted around her sides in pain. I knew the feeling all too well. But the control was elating. The intensity of power had me transfixed. My entire will extended beyond her and could wrap around her, through her, moving what I pleased. Her possible involvement with Rufus wasn't relevant anymore. The disturbing severity of control surpassed anything in my mind, beyond anything I had felt before.

Tifa stumbled towards me, falling at my feet. I could hear her screaming in my head as she looked up at me, an expression of sickness and pain contorting her beautiful face. Those eyes which I had fallen in love with were suddenly clouded in agony, a bitter and futile fight to the dominance I wielded. It was a pain I recognized. A pain I had contended with many times.

She was weak, like I was... like I am.

All at once, realization hit me and I released her, conscious of what I had done, what I had become. She collapsed, curled on the floor, and I snapped free of the haze that was drugging me.

"Tifa...!" I fell to my knees next to her, unable to believe what just happened.

Tremendous guilt fell heavy on me as I clutched Tifa's motionless body, fearful she had passed out. It was all too surreal...

"...Cloud..." her voice was faint.

I hugged her tight, closing my eyes, relieved that she wasn't hurt.

"I -" wanted to apologize, but I noticed something strange that stopped me mid-sentence.

The Jenova in her body was still calling to me, as though it wanted to be controlled. Tifa's voice was in my head, but she was approving of everything. It made no sense.

"You're..." My voice shook. I gazed down at Tifa, her eyelids open barely a sliver. She was limp, but still awake. "What are you asking me to do?" I said softly.

Her ruby eyes went wide. "What?" she replied weakly.

"You...want this?" It was all becoming clear again. She knew I would find out that she had been conspiring with Rufus against me. She knew I would feel guilty. So she was behaving one way, though she truly wanted this. She wanted this to happen to me. No, nothing was making sense. I couldn't concentrate anymore!

I let her drop to the ground, appalled. "You lied to me," I said solemnly, the absolute gravity of the words crushing me. Everything about her was a lie. She had to have been working with ShinRa. Or at least with Rufus. She lied all those times she seemed to have been caring about me. She lied when she looked at me with pain and fear when I told her we couldn't be together as long as she contained Jenova.

"No..." she reached out for me.

I moved away. She remained where she had fallen, still writhing in that familiar pain I no longer tried to stop. I couldn't now. Vincent went to Tifa and knelt next to her, his eyes still locked on me.

"Stop this," he demanded.

"This is what they've wanted," I responded quietly, turning my back to him, "Perhaps this is my fate, then."

"Cloud, she's unconscious..." I heard Vincent say.

"I know." I felt her go.

"And you don't care?"

"Of course I care." I just don't know who to trust anymore.

"Then stop this!"

"I ...can't." I shut my eyes for a moment and sighed, trying to think straight.

I heard Vincent's light footsteps, then a click of metal. Slowly, I turned around to face him. A gun barrel was pointed directly at my head, his hand holding the weapon steady, his dark crimson eyes full of sorrow.

"Are you going to shoot me, Vincent?" I asked plainly, my hand moving towards the hilt of my sword.

"If I have to..." He was resolute.


	6. Perfection and Loss

_Chapter Six – Perfection and Loss_

* * *

Pure dead silence fell between us, tension cutting the air. Neither of us moved, eyes locked on the other in grim suspicion. Whatever was boiling within me was no longer in my control. I couldn't stop it. It was too powerful, and I was merely a shadow, watching another Cloud in my body, an imposter. And with every ounce of resistance I held, I only seemed to fall deeper into the abyss.

There was movement from the corner of my eye, on the staircase. Very slowly, my eyes tracked the source to Marlene and Denzel sitting in the shadows on the top stair, peering down at me. Marlene's cheeks were wet with tears, but neither of them made a sound. I exhaled slowly, looking back at Vincent.

He hadn't noticed them, but he took advantage of my slight lapse in attention, moving his metal claw so quickly that I felt it slice through my skin before I saw it in a blur of gold. My hand went to my chest, soaking up blood. But it was superficial, more like a warning than an actual attack.

Before I could fully react, he swiped again with the razor sharp metal, but this time moved the gun to get a better hit. The opportunity presented itself, and I unsheathed my sword fast, slicing towards him in one fluid motion. He jumped back, narrowly missing the blade and twisted the gun around, firing at me twice. The bullets ricocheted off the huge flat side of the sword, harmlessly lodging into the ceiling.

"Why are you doing this?" I shouted to him.

"I made a promise to you," he replied darkly, "And you certainly are not acting like yourself."

I wasn't myself. I felt betrayed and suddenly alone. My eyes went to Tifa, unconscious on the floor. But it wasn't just between her and me anymore. There was much more going on. Jenova was... had always been calling to me. I was still her puppet.

His dark eyes watched me like an enemy, almost searching for a reason, yet I could explain nothing to him. I was never in control. I only wanted Vincent to help me, but the thing inside of me seethed with hatred.

Unrelenting rage filled my head and I swung at Vincent, who dodged effortlessly, the blade slicing only the corner of his red cape. I raised the sword, swinging again and again, quicker. He jumped back, firing at me, but I was fast, pulling the massive blade up as a shield, the bullets zinging away.

Throwing aside one of the bar tables, I stepped backwards to put more distance between Vincent and myself because I didn't really want to hurt him. A swelling anger that wasn't mine crushed my willpower, and I stared at him over the edge of my sword, poised to strike.

Through the tiny shred of silence, I heard Tifa moan softly in pain. My attention snapped to her, but Vincent utilized the distraction and shot one last time at me. I wasn't prepared for it, and the bullet grazed against my forehead, a rush of pain hitting me hard. The stinging force was enough to throw my head back in shock, and I fell, blood weeping from the wound. Either I was just lucky, or Vincent had purposefully missed.

"Cloud!" Marlene screamed from the staircase.

Vincent looked up at her and Denzel in surprise. I tightened my grip on the sword's hilt and sprung from the floor, slicing upwards towards him, blood dripping down my face. The gun fell to the floor with a clatter, cut in two, but he wasn't fazed and caught the blade's edge with his claw, repelling with surprising force. In a jolt of energy I angled my weight forward hard, throwing Vincent backwards. He stumbled against the bar counter then lost his footing and fell, a few of the wooden bar stools smashing to pieces. Before he could jump up, I jabbed the sharp point over his throat.

"Don't move, Vincent," I warned him.

Dark red eyes glared up at me under the tangle of black hair, and his crimson cape lay lifelessly around him like a squashed bug. Another terrible silence. The rise and fall of his chest moved the sword with each breath, and I refused to budge. Then his eyes moved to focus on something behind me.

A sudden sharp pain near my hip made me turn viciously to face the new attacker, still keeping the sword on Vincent. Denzel stood behind me defiantly holding the smallest piece of my sword, the one that snaps into the lowest half near the hilt. Apparently, I had left my bike unlocked by accident. He was holding it completely wrong, of course, and there were tears in his eyes. How stupid of me. And how foolish of him.

"Give me the sword, Denzel," I commanded in annoyance.

He shook his head, tears leaking down his face, then straightened his back and pointed the blade directly at me.

"Denzel, what are you doing?" Marlene cried from across the room.

"You hurt Tifa..." he growled at me, the fear in his voice unmistakable.

"Denzel, give me the sword now," I said firmly again, turning towards him while still holding the sword steady on Vincent's chest.

Denzel shook his head again, the tears relentless, pitiful. The blood trailing down my forehead was becoming distracting and Denzel's eyes kept jumping from my eyes to the sword in his hands to Vincent then back to me. Despite his demeanor, Denzel was absolutely no threat. Effortlessly, I snatched the sword piece right out of his hand, receiving little protest, and immediately snapped it into my sword. Denzel hardly reacted at first, then gasped in delayed panic and glared up at me bitterly.

"Don't touch any of my belongings ever again when I'm gone," I told him sternly, "Ever."

Denzel backed up slowly then ran over to Marlene, who was now kneeling near Tifa, and grabbed her by the hand. Quickly, he pulled her up behind him as she looked at me with a confused expression.

"...Cloud...?" she asked softly, her entire body trembling.

Denzel gazed at me with a final painful expression then rushed towards the door yanking Marlene along behind him. Her eyes remained locked on me as she left, torn between fright and concern. Emptiness filled me.

I had to control it. I had to stop the anger, the paranoia. It wasn't me. Never was. I was hurting everyone I love. And I could hear Sephiroth laughing. He's always laughing.

_...because you are a puppet._

I lost all concentration. Thoughts and emotions that were not my own kept welling inside me. Intense hatred and anger rolled through my body. My hands moved by themselves, lifting the heavy sword above Vincent. My vision was blurry, my arms shaking.

I had to hesitate, to stop this, any way I could. But I was too far away. I was nothing but a spectator now, lost, trapped between images of dreams and reality.

A disturbing fear reached through me. I couldn't control anything. I would never be released. My eyes went to Vincent, his eyes on Tifa. I exhaled slowly, inwardly struggling for power. The blade fell through the air, towards Vincent, his eyes slowly tracking back to mine. I could still hear the laughter.

Vincent rolled to the side, folds of fabric suddenly in motion. His massive cape ensconced him for only a second and he seemed to fly through the air, out of my field of vision. The sword hit the wooden floor planks splintering several into bits, gray concrete showing through underneath.

"Cloud...I don't want to fight you," Vincent voice was unsteady. He now stood right behind me. "I'm only trying to protect Tifa."

And I could still hear her screaming in my head. I glanced over at her body on the floor behind Vincent, her dark hair splayed around her like an angry dash of ink across the ground.

She moved slightly, moaning in pain. Feverishly, I struggled and pulled, straining with every ounce of power against the demon within until control was relinquished back to me. I forcibly dropped my sword, wanting nothing more than to call out to her and hold her, but I couldn't. My body was unresponsive. Vincent went to her, helping her up, and whispered something in her ear.

I just wanted to hold her. I didn't care if she betrayed me or not anymore. Tifa...

She stood weakly, her breathing uneven, and her eyes caught mine. I was sickened by the rhythmic flow of Jenova within her. That terrible piece of me wanted to grab her, control her, but I somehow suppressed it. For several moments, I held her gaze in cold silence, watching an array of emotions play across her face. Then her hands calmly moved to retrieve the fighting gloves from her back pocket, and a look of melancholy settled on her troubled eyes.


	7. Not All Dust Settles

_Chapter Seven – Not All Dust Settles_

* * *

"Tifa, what are you doing?" I heard my voice say.

"I think I understand now, Cloud," she whispered, her voice distraught.

"Understand what?" my voice continued.

She raised her gloved fists and steadied her footing, lowering her head just a bit. The sick half of me wanted to laugh at her futility.

"Are you going to ... fight me?" my voice asked cynically.

"I...I don't know," she stammered, trembling. She looked to Vincent for a second, "Vincent, go find the kids. I saw them leave."

"I'm not leaving you," Vincent replied instantly.

"Go. Please. I can handle him. Please just find Marlene and Denzel. They must be terrified. I need them to be safe," Tifa muttered to him, her eyes back on me.

At first, he didn't move, but Tifa continued staring at me, her fists raised, and Vincent eventually turned to leave quickly.

"I'm coming right back for you," he said to her, and without a second more, vanished out the front door.

She let out a forlorn sigh. I could breathe easier suddenly, my own thoughts returning to me through a fog.

"You sent him away. Why?" I asked, uncertain of her motives.

"I didn't want you to hurt him. And I ... I don't think you'll hurt me," she said, her voice thick with caution.

"Of course I won't hurt you!" I reached my arm out to her, but she stepped back without lowering her gloved fists. I continued after a moment, "I don't want to fight with anyone. Vincent attacked me first!" But I was still trying to regain full control and make sense of the surge of Jenova within me and the mirrored sensation from her.

"What's happened to you?" she asked in whisper, her eyes narrowed on me.

I tried explaining, "It's the Jenova. I don't know how, but I can feel it...throughout your body." My eyes trailed to the floor as I spoke, disgusted with the whole situation. I've become my worst nightmare.

"Then, it is Jenova for certain?" she asked me coldly.

I nodded.

"What...what can I do? What should we do? I can't lose you in this..." she replied, a hint of sorrow in her voice.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped shut and she cried out in pain, clutching her head. I stood motionless, watching her, a touch of pity in my heart.

"Is this your idea of death?" she shouted angrily at me, trying to raise her fists once more.

"Death?" I repeated, confused at her remark.

"Enough of this! Just stop it!" she screamed, tears in her eyes, "You can't just do this to someone!"

I said nothing, mostly because I couldn't make sense of her words.

"I can... I can hear you in my head. Stop it!" she screamed again, her eyes wide open, tears overflowing onto her cheeks.

I watched the muscles in her face tense, her jaw rigid.

"You can't fight me, you know," I heard myself say.

"Stop it...now! You're hurting me!" she shouted, a tinge of pain in her voice.

I shook my head, clearing the static that was beginning to accumulate. What am I doing?

"I'm not doing anything!" I said with sudden clarity in my mind.

The realization that Tifa was in pain ignited my emotions and tore through me, shaking off the terrifying sensation of loss. I held the feeling within me, cooperated with it instead of fighting it. My breathing slowed. The spiking anger and hatred within me halted.

I slowly took a step towards her.

"Tifa..."

I had become entirely separate from the creature that was consuming me, lying dormant in my skull, watching my body move, hearing my voice speak. It was always a part of me, but now I was merely a part of it.

And I couldn't let it have Tifa. Tifa was innocent, blissful. I may be a puppet, but I could not bring Tifa into that world.

She paused, then straightened up, wiping the sweat from her forehead, gasping.

"Are you ok?" I asked urgently.

"Yes... it stopped...You..." she caught her breath, her hands curling into fists again.

Taking another step, I advanced towards Tifa, who was steadfast, exhaustion clear on her face. She swayed slightly, determination solid in her feet, but she kept moving her head as though she were dizzy. My footsteps were heavy and slow, my eyes never left hers. I was within arms reach of her now, her breathing became more ragged.

Gently, I brought my hands up to her fists, closing my palms around her metal knuckles. I could feel her trembling.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"...I know," her voice cut off.

Very slowly I moved closer, pulling her towards me, my arms wrapping around her carefully. She closed her eyes, resting softly against my shoulder, her body falling into my embrace. I hugged her tightly; I could feel the surge of Jenova within her with every breath.

There's no way in hell you're taking her from me.

She leaned heavily on me, her weight rather sudden. I looked down at her. She had passed out again. The activity of the cells must've been draining her entirely, given that she had never been showered with Mako in order to sustain the Jenova better.

I lifted her up, one arm under her legs, the other on her back behind her shoulders, carrying her. When was the last time I held someone like this? Aerith flashed through my thoughts, her corpse in my arms. She had been so cold and heavy, and I remember how my chest clenched up when she sunk into the lake.

I hugged Tifa to me, resting my cheek on the top of her head, the clean scent of her hair pulling at me. She was so light and warm.

The door swung open, startling me, and Vincent rushed in, but stopped in his tracks immediately when he laid eyes on me.

"Where are the kids?" I faced him, still holding Tifa.

"What did you do to her?" he growled. His eyes darted across the room to my sword, which I had left on the ground.

"She's fine. Turns out you were right about everything, Vincent," I said steadily.

"Cloud?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Please, Vincent. It's fine."

"I don't know what you did to her, but I can see right through you," he lowered his voice, menacingly.

"Can you?" I retorted, growing very annoyed with him.

"You're not the first I've seen go mad because of the Jenova," his eyes darkened, his cape a more vivid red than I remembered.

"You think I'm crazy?" I glared at him.

"It's not your fault, Cloud," he took a breath, as if thinking over what he was going to say, "It was the same with Sephiroth."

"And I killed Sephiroth," I said quickly, "I killed him and he's dead and we don't have to talk about him or worry about him or even think about him! So just drop it."

"Put her down..." Vincent said.

"No. I can't let anything happen to her." I held her tighter. "She's...important to me."

"If you care for her, then just put her down and walk away from this. I won't tell anyone," he pleaded. Of course he was lying.

A thought crossed my mind.

"I won't hurt her. Why are you so protective of her? Did you know about Rufus' scheme too? Was that why you were in Nibelheim earlier? You knew I would be there?" My mind was bleeding with accusations against him.

"What are you talking about?" he asked immediately.

"You want me to walk away from her? Why, so she can be ShinRa's little experiment too? I have to protect her," I told him.

"Against who? Against yourself? ShinRa has no part in this."

I did not reply, trying to sort through the thoughts overflowing in my head. I didn't even know what was going on; I just knew that I had to make sure nothing happened to Tifa. I wouldn't be responsible for another death. But Vincent was right. How could I protect her against myself? If I was in control, then I could simply dominate the Jenova in her body and force it to suppress itself. But to be unable to control one's thoughts and actions was nothing short of a horrific experience. There were too many risks, and I was beginning to panic because it was dawning on me that I might not be able to help her. No matter what, I would not let what happened to me happen to her. Besides, Sephiroth was sadistic. I was not like him.

"Against who, Cloud? Who is the enemy?" Vincent shouted.

I walked over to my sword, shifted Tifa's weight slightly putting her over my shoulder and picked up the weapon, sheathing it on my back. I moved Tifa back to rest in my arms. She was soundly asleep.

"Don't follow me," I said to Vincent, and walked out the open door behind him.

The sky was an ominous red hue. The night air made me shiver, despite the humidity. I turned back to look at Vincent, still standing in the destroyed bar, drops of my blood near his feet, staining the wood.

"Don't follow me," I repeated again with more emphasis.

He wasn't to be trusted. How could I not have seen his involvement before? He conveniently showed up in Nibelheim within a day of me, and then was able to get back to Tifa's bar so quickly. Definitely working with Rufus again. Once a Turk, always a Turk, I suppose.

It was late and the streets were practically empty, save for a handful of drunks walking home. Time held no meaning for me anymore.

_...because you are a puppet._

You can't have me again. And you can never have Tifa.

* * *

I walked quickly, glancing back over my shoulder a few times to ensure that Vincent was indeed not following me. I had to bring her somewhere safe for now. Somewhere temporary. I couldn't trust anybody at present. Perhaps not even Tifa, but she was important to me nevertheless.

After several blocks, my arms began to ache. I couldn't carry her forever and I needed to get somewhere inconspicuous to keep her safely away from whoever had orchestrated this conspiracy against me, most likely Rufus. It was the dead of night, but the city was still alive. I took her to rather seedy looking inn, pushing open the door carefully. Nobody would bother searching for me here, if they were even looking.

There was a tired looking middle-aged man sitting behind a counter with his feet up, watching a tiny old TV propped on a rickety shelf. The place reminded me of those awful inns they would make us stay in during missions while I was in Soldier.

"Whoa man, is she ok?" The guy at the counter looked up.

"Yeah, just tired," I told him.

"Alright man, you need a room? Let me help ya." He stood, and I noticed he wore pajamas and no shoes.

He opened the door to the hallway, and I followed him down the corridor, past several doors. He stopped at one near the end of the hall, flipping through his key ring, finding the right key, and opened the door. The entire room was the size of a closet, or close to it, with little more than a single tiny bed, a cramped desk, and a dim lamp. Perfect place to lay low and think.

"There ya go. It's like 30gil a night," the guy scratched at his head. At least its dirt cheap.

I gently placed Tifa on the bed, and handed the guy 30gil.

"Oh, and there's like a bathroom down the hall and uh, a phone in the lobby if you need it," the guy said, handing me a spare key. "Hey, aren't you that famous guy... uh, Cloud Strife?"

"No! No, you have me confused with someone else," I said quickly, "But I'd rather you not worry about names."

"Oh, well, ok, man. I got you," he looked at Tifa a second, then winked at me, "I get it, man. Don't even worry about it." He grinned, and then closed the door, leaving me alone with Tifa.

I waited a moment, then went down the hall to the bathroom and washed the dried blood from my face. There was a small gash on the side of my forehead from where Vincent had shot me. I was lucky. If I had moved just a bit further to the right, I would be dead now. The thought didn't particularly bother me though. Going back into the hotel room, I locked the door and stood in the immediate darkness. The glow from the city's nightlife shone in through the window, illuminating the room dimly in an artificial orangey color.

Sitting on the edge of the bed with Tifa lying by my side, I was stricken with guilt regarding her involvement.

"I never meant for this to happen to you," I whispered to her, a terrible ache in my chest.

She slept on, oblivious to my words of course. I felt so empty, gored clean through, everything ripped out. The stillness of the room only magnified the chaos within me. I could feel the same emanating from within Tifa. It was organized chaos, in every sense. The shadows of the room felt alive as well, pulsating to match the beating of my heart.

I took off my sword and lied down next to her on the tiny bed, moving her on her side, my arm over hers. I resolved to stay awake all night, but I felt so peaceful lying next to Tifa that I couldn't help but doze off.

My thoughts were a tangle of intangible sensations blurring in and out.

* * *

Suddenly, I was standing in an unfamiliar bathroom, blood red tiles covering both floor and ceiling. There was someone lying in the tub, the shower curtain closed.

"Cloud, is that you? You're late," Tifa's voice called from the tub.

"Late for what?" I asked.

"To kill me. Isn't that why you're here?"

I pulled back the shower curtain. Tifa was naked lying in the water, her arms crossed over her chest, looking up at me with disappointment.

"Why would I kill you?" I shouted angrily.

"You're supposed to. I've been waiting," she huffed with frustration.

"I'm not going to!" I told her plainly.

"You have to!" Her wet hands suddenly grabbed mine and she guided my hands over her neck.

"Stop it! Here, I'll get you a towel," I tried to pull away, but her grip was strong. Her neck felt soft and damp.

"Are you going to strangle me or not?" she said plainly, as though this was a trivial event.

"Strangle you?" I was so confused, but it felt right.

"Can't you do anything right? You're so unreliable sometimes."

Yes, everything felt perfect. I was supposed to strangle her, that's right. I tightened my hands around her slender throat, feeling her pulse.

She smiled. "Yes, go on."

I squeezed harder until I felt the smooth muscles of her neck succumbing to the pressure. I was crushing her larynx. My stomach turned. The crunching sound made me sick.

* * *

I awoke with a start, my body filled with fear. Tifa was no longer in my arms. I sat up, catching my breath and clearing my head of the nightmare. I wasn't asleep for very long because it was still night time.

She was standing nearby at the window, looking out, and I was once more met with the overwhelming stir of the Jenova cells alive within her. This time, however, it was significantly less severe.

"Tifa!" I was relieved to see she was alright.

Slowly, she faced me.

"Cloud... you're awake," she replied expressionless, her face shadowed in the dim light.

"Are you alright?" My concern for her was clear.

"...No. No, I'm not alright. Why did you bring me here?" Her voice was taut with anger.

"You just need to trust me. I'm the only one who can protect you now."

"Protect me?" she said with disbelief, brushing her hair back.

I stood.

"Stay right there. Don't move," she said. Her hostility was evident.

The room was so tiny, and we weren't very far apart, but I did as she said.

"You know," she began, "I used to really pride myself on the fact that I was pretty much the only person who could really get you to talk, who could really understand you. After all we've been through, I was seeing a future together for us, Cloud," she paused, possibly waiting for my reply, but after I didn't say anything, she continued, "And all this bullshit that you've been pulling recently is really getting on my nerves. Vincent may think you're crazy, but I know you better than that. I know you're still in there, somewhere, hidden again from me. Didn't you learn anything from our experiences together all those years ago? Don't you remember the pain we both went through, reliving Nibelheim to find my Cloud again?"

"Yes, I remember..." How could I forget?

"Then pull yourself together. I'm here for you, but I cannot keep this up. I don't care how much Jenova interferes with your life, you need to remember that it's still your life! And I was hoping it could be our life..." She looked at me sadly.

"Tifa... I'm trying, but this isn't my fault."

"I know. It's ShinRa or whoever that did this to you, but that shouldn't matter! You're becoming something that you're not, and I know you, the real you. And right now, I'm looking at the man who gave Sephiroth the Black Materia and tried to kill Aerith on that altar, not the man who defeated Kadaj, not the father figure to Denzel and Marlene, and certainly not the man I fell in love with!" Her eyes were fierce, her words cutting.

"I...well...you love me?"

"Was it not obvious? Cloud, I asked you to live with me, I kissed you, we made love, do these things not matter?" Her voice rose in anger.

"No, they matter!" I was taken aback.

"Oh, and don't you ever," she pointed at me menacingly, "ever try that mind control stunt with me again, or I am leaving and I will make sure you never see me again."

"What?"

"Back in the bar, you were talking in my head and ...and... and do you know how sick it made me feel?" She was really quite furious now.

"Yes...but-"

"I don't want to hear about Sephiroth or Jenova or any of that."

"Tifa..." I felt like a little kid being scolded.

"Don't you 'Tifa' me! I want my Cloud back, not this imposter." She put one hand on her hip, and I noticed she was still wearing her fighting gloves.

As she spoke, I felt a calm clarity loosen the fog and static. Slowly, my own thoughts and emotions were returning to me.

"I'm- I'm ...so torn up. Help me."

"What?" Her demeanor softened.

"Help me," I repeated, the brief moment of clarity already closing.

"I'm trying..." she sighed deeply, "I'm really trying. But you need to help yourself as well. I can't go through this again with you. It's too painful now. There are some scars that must never be reopened."

Then, just as quickly, I was swallowed by my paranoia. I had to tell her about the conspiracy. She would know what to do. And I needed to confirm that she truly wasn't involved with...them.

"But there is more going on here. You're a part of it now too," I said softly.

"You mean, the Jenova?" Her voice flickered with fright.

"Yes, and I think Rufus has been plotting this scheme with replicated Jenova cells. I don't really know the extent of people involved, and for a moment I thought you had been with them," I confessed.

"Been with who? What scheme?" She looked suspiciously at me.

"ShinRa. Don't you see? Jenova is still important to them. We're the ones they want now. And I don't understand the nature of these cloned cells just yet, but I am becoming more lost the more I am apart from you. I think I can subdue the cells within you while you are close to me, if you would allow it, so you can remain outside of this," I told her, the whole mess swimming in my mind.

"Ok, now you're starting to sound crazy. Cloud, there is no conspiracy against you," she said quickly, "And just the fact that you can manipulate the cells inside of me is horrifying enough to imagine!"

"How can you explain the chain of events, though? Don't you see the connections?" I was alarmed that she was so oblivious.

"Cloud, listen to me very carefully. There is no connection," she said slowly.

"Well, what about-"

"Cloud, stop," she said firmly, "Break off whatever it is that has fastened itself so securely inside of you."

"But I-"

"Stop it!" She held my gaze without blinking. "Please just come back to me."

Her eyes were pleading. My mouth was dry. I stopped talking. Was it possible she was right? Or was my explanation too inadequate?

I fell back, sitting on the bed, holding my head in my hands. It was all too unreal, too colorless. The world was fading with alarming speed. I couldn't place dreams or reality. Tifa was a blur to me.

"Please." I heard her voice, distantly.

Am I going mad?

"Come back to me."

_Come back to me._

A sudden pain shot through my spine, crippling me, and I fell to the floor, the dismal carpet at my face. An astounding white light blinded me through the darkness as I writhed, pain contorting my body. Distantly, Tifa was screaming, and I saw her naked body underwater, her throat bruised, her eyes closed peacefully, long brown hair billowing around her. And one huge feathery black wing curled around me.

_I will never be a memory._


	8. The Wasteland

_Chapter Eight – The Wasteland_

Note: This chapter is split into two parts: The first part is from Tifa's point of view and the second resumes Cloud's point of view.

* * *

Tifa's point of view:

"Please," I called to him sadly, "Come back to me."

Cloud slumped down on the bed, suddenly, completely still. I remained motionless, peering over at his wilted body for several seconds. Had he simply passed out?

"Cloud...?" I called softly.

No movement. I stepped over to him and pushed his shoulder. He rolled lifelessly to the side from the shove. His chest moved slightly with his shallow breathing. But other than that, he could easily have been mistaken for dead.

"Cloud...wake up," I said gently, completely unsure of what had happened.

I tapped his chest roughly. Nothing. I knelt on the bed, leaning over him, and shook him by the shoulders. Still nothing. He most certainly was not a deep sleeper, as the slightest touch usual woke him. I was starting to worry.

I put my hand on his cheek. His skin was icy. I leaned close to him, examining the gash on the side of his forehead. Maybe he had lost too much blood?

His eyes snapped open. A brilliant green. I screamed and jumped back, retreating to the far side of the room. He got to his feet, a strange smile across his face.

"C-Cloud," I stuttered, realizing something was very wrong.

"Tifa. It's nice to see you again." A voice I hadn't heard in a long time.

My stomach jumped to my throat. Sephiroth. His eyes were unmistakable.

"Where is Cloud?" I answered, steadying my footing.

"You knew this was coming, Tifa," he responded with a terrible grin.

I stepped back, feeling the wall right behind me.

"Cloud," I called to him loudly, "Come back to me. Just come back."

Cloud started laughing malevolently and it was positively chilling.

"I've never had anything against you, Tifa," he broke his laughter off, "So this is nothing personal."

"Cloud, come back to me," I continued, praying he would hear me, wherever he was. I ignored the fear climbing over my skin.

"Cloud is not here to protect you," his voice lowered sinisterly.

My eyes darted to his sword, still sheathed, propped against the wall next to the foot of the bed. He noticed.

"Oh, don't worry. This evening will end with you cut into pieces. But first I thought we could have some fun," he said menacingly.

I raised my fists instantly, trying to remain calm. I would not give up on him. I had to reach him.

"Why are you doing this," I said sharply.

"Cloud has an unusual affinity for you. One more death for him to torture himself over." Cloud smiled once more, his light green eyes narrowing on me. I felt a sickening surge of something wrapping itself around my lungs. The pain of Jenova was paralyzing.

I couldn't panic. I couldn't think of why or how anything was happening. I could only focus on finding a way out, of bringing Cloud back.

He was suddenly so close to me. He still smelled like Cloud, and I remembered crying over his death, wearing a shirt just like the one he wore now, only a few days ago. It made my stomach turn.

"There really isn't enough Jenova in your body to make this truly fun," Cloud sighed, disappointedly, then without warning smacked me hard across the face with the back of his hand.

He was incredibly strong, and my head swung to the side from the impact, my eyes instantly tearing. My entire cheek felt numb, the skin around it tingling and sore.

Grabbing my wrists, he threw me on the floor.

"Do you enjoy this?" he laughed.

"Cloud! Stop this!" I screamed.

"Oh, I'm sure Cloud would enjoy this," he said, towering over me.

He released the Jenova inside me, and I sprang to my feet. He had backed me into the corner farthest from the door. I lined up my knuckles and swung at him without hesitation. My fist made contact with his jaw.

Cloud looked completely shocked. He put his hand up to touch the swollen spot.

"Ow!" he pretended to look hurt, "So that's how we're going to play?"

I was so terrified that I was functioning off pure instinct. Without thinking, I dashed towards the door, somehow managing to dodge him. Everything was a brilliant blur as I kicked it open with a burst of strength, and ran down the hall without as much as a glance back. Faintly, I heard someone yelling behind me and I could feel Cloud in pursuit.

Outside it was raining, a black vault of a sky above me. It took me only a few seconds to recognize the area, only about a mile from the bar. I had to get somewhere safe. I couldn't fight him. As much as I wanted to see the kids and verify that they were unharmed, I couldn't risk going back to the bar and leading Cloud right to them, if they were in fact there.

I ran in a random direction, away, nothing but adrenaline feeding my pulse. I didn't have to look to know he was following me. It was just a question of how far away he was. I chose streets at random as I ran at top speed, my chest and lungs aching. People gave me rude looks as I shoved past them, but I didn't dare slow down.

Eventually, the more inhabited, busy, lamp-lit streets gave away to dismal ruins and fading light. There was no moonlight, and the rain had now soaked through my clothing. Discouraged by my lack of progress yet frightened of stopping, I realized I would have to find somewhere to hide and rethink everything. My head was spinning, blood rushing insanely fast through my lungs and heart.

The patchy streets of Edge led into the nightmarish twisted ruins of Midgar. And I had just reached the end of Edge. A few of the old streetlamps flickered dimly, casting haunting shadows in their radius. I caught my breath and looked over my shoulder for the first time since leaving the room. Nobody was there.

Sighing with relief, yet not completely rid of my anxiety, I decided to risk venturing into the ruins rather than remain in Edge. My eyes adjusted to the dark streets. This must have been the old Sector Three, judging by a broken street sign, and it didn't matter how well I knew the city before Meteor, because it was all indistinguishable now, metal and wood and strings of paper the only reminders of a once great city.

The huge crumbling buildings on either side of the road loomed forebodingly over me as I walked through, looking for a suitable place to rest and clear my head. Very large chunks of metal lay strewn around, smashed through buildings and broken sidewalk, which I gathered must've been from the top plate when it collapsed, crushing everything beneath it.

I walked onward quickly, staying near the main road with its temporary diffuse lighting because I had heard that junkies and robbers tended to live in some of the old Midgar sectors. Truthfully, I was more terrified of facing Sephiroth alone than getting assaulted by some junkie, but running into neither would be ideal. I heard the faint squeaking of rats, and hurried forward, glass crunching under my boots.

At length, the streetlamps ended, and so did the road, in a heap of impassable rubble. I couldn't get into the other Sector without venturing into the total darkness. My fear had not subsided, and the anxiety had only gotten worse. I felt sick to my stomach. I would have to find somewhere to hide in this area, just so I could sit and relax.

Paranoia was setting in. Every sound I heard made me jump and every second I was glancing over my shoulder, certain I would find Cloud appearing out of the night. I tried to focus on the task at hand. A less than completely destroyed house adjacent to a mountain of torn metal seemed the most inconspicuous. The door was busted off, but the roof was still intact on one side, which would at least give me protection from the rain, which was still pouring quite heavily.

Entering the abandoned house carefully, I went immediately to the corner directly next to the door, so if anyone entered, I could see them before they would see me. It was completely pitch black, but I could feel the demolished remains of furniture – tables, chairs, a broken lamp, a cushion from a sofa. I grabbed the cushion and sat down in the corner, my eyes locked on the doorway, distant light falling in from the street illuminating the heavy dust in the air.

Finally, I caught my breath, the tension leaving my sore legs. There was a small hole in the wall right above my head, so I could glance outside if I sat up enough. I remained slouched for the moment, searching through my pockets. I must've left my phone in the bar.

A sudden sickness gripped me, and I curled up, the heavy weight of Jenova breathing through me. Pain ripped along my ribcage and skull. A new fear overwhelmed me.

When Cloud was pursuing Sephiroth two years back, he was actually just following the pull of Jenova cells. In fact, that's how the other clones were drawn to him. And now I was contaminated with those cells...

The realization made my body numb. Cloud would find me. No matter where I went. We were linked now. It made the pain only worse.

I thought of heading back into Edge and finding Vincent, but without knowing where he was, it could be a futile effort. Vincent could have easily called Cid and taken the kids to stay with Yuffie or Barret. And Cloud was no doubt moving towards me now.

There was no other option but to face Cloud and try to bring him to his senses. Whether I had to fight him or talk to him was irrelevant since my fears were dissuaded by neither. The pain in my stomach was spreading into my legs, paralyzing me. I heard a noise outside, and leaned back further into the corner, trying to silence my breathing, knowing I was at least visibly concealed in the utter darkness of the recess.

Heavy footsteps were approaching, stopping in the street directly outside the destroyed house. I knew immediately who they belonged to.

"Oh Tiiiifaaaaa," Sephiroth's voice called amiably.

I held my hand over my mouth, trying to stop any sound from escaping my lips. I didn't dare peer out the hole in the wall. The pain was dissipating, at the very least, and I tried to remain as still as possible, listening intently.

"Tifa, Tifa, Tifa," he scolded, his footsteps slowly moving closer.

I pressed myself further into the corner, feeling a spider web in my hair. The light from the doorway was suddenly blocked out. I cringed, knowing my hiding spot was discovered.

"Not very smart to run from me. But you knew I would find you quickly. And I enjoy the pursuit almost as much as you enjoy running."

Cloud stepped into the ruined house, nothing but a silhouette with the dim light at his back, where, much to my horror, his sword was sheathed. His eyes went to me, the green Mako-glow emanating faintly. He looked so horribly strange without those signature sapphire eyes. I remembered seeing the same shade of green in Denzel's eyes when he was contaminated with the polluted LifeStream and Geostigma.

I tried to keep my fear in check, folding my hands into fists. He stepped towards me, into the shadows that I had been trying so hard to conceal myself in. I felt him close.

Before I could react, he grabbed me by the neck, and lifted me up against the wall with startling strength. I tensed my abdomen and kicked him in the chest as he was tightening his grasp. He let go of me, stumbling back into the doorway's light, and regained his footing. I readied my fists and dashed forward, punching him square in the face.

This time he didn't flinch, but grabbed my hands and pinned then above my head, shoving my back against the wall, moving his body close to mine. He pressed his head against mine to the side, his lips at my ear. He was soaking wet from the rain, like I was, and his blonde hair hung shapelessly.

I struggled to free myself, but he was pressed too hard against me.

"Cloud, it's me. It's Tifa. Stop this. Come back to me," I said breathlessly, closing my eyes.

"He can't hear you," Cloud whispered, his lips grazing my cheek.

He moved down to my neck, kissing me roughly. I tried to pull away, but he only held me firmer. I was powerless.

Relaxing my muscles, I wanted to coax him to loosen his grip. He was laughing and kissing my face insultingly. I halted my resistance and kissed him back, with a bizarre twist of pleasure in the pit of my stomach. Much to my surprise, the tactic worked, and his grip momentarily loosened on my arms.

I bolted forward, summoning every ounce of strength, and shoved him off of me. His eyes flashed with contempt and he came at me again, but my fists were already moving. I punched him twice in rapid succession before he caught my right fist in his hand.

"This is growing tiresome. You aren't as much fun as I hoped," he growled, twisting my wrist back.

I cried out in pain, but he reached up with his other hand and unfolded my fist, pulling my glove off. He then grabbed my other hand forcefully and tore off my other glove quickly before I could move, shoving both gloves into his pocket.

"This should make things easier," his eyes flashed with amusement and his voice was terrifyingly cruel.

"You think I need gloves to fight you?" My voice was shaking, and I struggled as he held both my hands tight.

He laughed and threw me harshly onto the splintering floor. Water was pouring in from the broken ceiling and pooling in the cracked floor below. I stayed where I had fallen, motionless, my eyes watering involuntarily. Despair was beginning to drown my thoughts.

I had never actually considered Cloud's strength before. I had fought alongside him in battle many times and never imagined one day I would be the one against him. Truthfully, I didn't realize what a skilled fighter he was. And he was only daunting me now.

Fear wasn't an option now. Realization spread like a slow-circulating venom in my veins. It was dawning on me that he would kill me. I was clearly no match for him, despite my superb training. Even if I managed to retreat again, he would pursue me in some sort of sadistic game to torment the real Cloud, wherever he lay submerged. If I couldn't bring Cloud back, then this is it, I thought bleakly. Would Vincent take care of Marlene and Denzel? Or Barret?

"Maybe this death will replace the one always replaying in his head," Cloud said resolutely, his head turned towards the hilt of his sword.

"You promised," I shouted quickly before he could grab the weapon. He paused. I went on, "You promised me only two things in my life."

"You just don't get it, Tifa-"

"You promised me when we were children that you would always rescue me if I was in danger, and you promised just two days ago that you would come back to me!" I yelled in exasperation.

He laughed loudly.

"None of it matters," he said, and reached for the sword, unsheathing it in one fluid familiar motion.

The thought of dying alone in an abandoned decrepit house in the crumbling ruins of Midgar at the hands of my closest friend was incomprehensible. All those other times when we had fought Sephiroth or a remnant, I was never alone. Not like this. I felt cold.

He looked down at me, the sword in hand.

"Don't do this," I heard myself say quietly.

He smirked maliciously and slashed low to the ground, slicing my thigh deep. I pulled my legs to my chest instantly, my hands on the wound, the pain incredible. There was no where for me to go now. The room was too small to put any sufficient space between us, given that most of it was obscured in darkness or destroyed.

I squeezed my eyes shut in pain, a huge red blot soaking through my dark pants, the fabric sliced cleanly open. Cloud grabbed me by the hair and jerked me off the ground.

I swung my fists blindly at him, the pain in my leg overwhelming. I managed to hit his face once, right in the eye, but it was weak and it didn't faze him.

"Cloud." I choked the word out, defeated. Hopelessness swam through me. I felt my heart break in my chest. Cloud was gone.

He tossed me carelessly to the side, raising the sword above his head. Then this is it, I thought, still trying to stop the blood flowing from my leg. An odd melancholy fell over me. I shut my eyes, a horrible pain inside of me falling away.

But the cold impact of death never came.

I was so certain he would kill me that I was startled to find myself alive, still lying on the floor, clutching my bleeding leg. I couldn't believe it. My eyes went up to Cloud, who still held the sword above his head, but he was hesitating. He blinked several times and it looked as though he were listening to something I couldn't hear.

Taking advantage of his hesitation, I exhaustedly dragged myself backwards, away from him, blood trailing from the cut in my leg. I felt broken glass cut into my palms as I crawled and the ground suddenly gave away to a shallow pit filled with rain-water. The cold water shocked me and pain was shooting up my arms, my wounded leg becoming numb. He had made sure I wouldn't run again.

But Cloud was still standing where I left him, rain sliding off the blade. Suddenly, he threw the sword aside, the clatter of metal against wood and glass resounded loudly through the heavy rain. I pulled my legs and arms close to my chest, sitting in the water, my palms stinging horribly, with nothing but darkness around me, watching him intently.

"No, I think Mother-"

He broke off mid-sentence and I remained perfectly still, the pain so distant, adrenaline keeping my muscles tensed and my attention focused.

"Yes, that's right," he mumbled.

I had no idea who he was talking to, but he suddenly set his eyes on me with a new ferocity. He took two steps and grabbed me from the puddle by my shoulder. I shrieked, slippery blood streaming from my palms. I couldn't make a fist without the skin rippling with pain, extensive bits of glass embedded, and my legs were too sore from running, one of them too deeply cut to be of any real use. Struggling was useless.

He dropped me by the doorway, the bitter light directly on him, and kneeled over me, one leg on either side of my waist. The calm in his actions was especially eerie.

"I wanted to be able to see your face," he explained almost apologetically, that sick grin reappearing on his face.

"Don't do this, Cloud," I started to say, but the moment I began speaking his hands darted around my neck, squeezing with alarming vigor.

I'd never felt more isolated in my life at that moment. It was all I could think of, for some reason. His hands were so tight on my neck, I could feel the blood pumping furiously, my head growing heavier. Everything was unresponsive and he filled my vision. I was gasping for breath, choking and sputtering, a new pain crashing through my chest. My lungs hurt so badly.

Everything was becoming red, my hands slipping off Cloud's, my feeble attempts to pry him off nothing but failure. What I can only describe as loneliness enveloped me. The desperation and insane struggle was fading, then ended.

I could still see him, above me, through a haze...

* * *

Cloud's point of view:

"Cloud...how interesting that we keep running into each other." A voice I knew well.

My eyes snapped open, and I found myself alone at the edge of a dusty wasteland with nothing beyond but a gaping void. Emptiness stretched in all directions, distant and cold. And as I stared into the abyss, it seemed to be watching me with frightening clarity. The pale yellow sky felt alive with a displaced energy, and several black feathers were scattered at my feet.

"Sephiroth..." I spat his name. "How many times, Sephiroth?"

A hollow fright suspended through me.

"How many times must I kill you? You can't defeat me," I shouted, my true confidence hardly supportive of such a sentence.

"Cloud, your Jenova is different," his voice said coldly directly behind me.

I spun around to face him, reaching instinctively for my sword, before I realized in horror that there was no familiar weight on my back. Desperate to conceal my immediate fright at the idea of being defenseless, I straightened my posture and glared viciously at him. Emerald eyes pierced my own, unwavering. He was taller than I remembered, the black cloak vivid amidst the pale dust, hatred burning between us.

"Things have changed since we last met," he informed me, a sickening smile on his face.

I took a step back, feeling the edge of the abyss close behind me.

"Nothing has changed," I corrected him.

"Oh yes," his eyes widened, mockingly, "You told me last time that everything is equally important to you, no?"

I took a breath, my hands clenching into fists.

"But there is someone in particular who has gained importance to us," he spoke low, still grinning.

My heart raced. Tifa.

"She is not involved," I told him quickly.

His smile broke into laughter.

"Oh, I don't agree," his laughter ceased for a second, his eyes glaring down at me, "And I want to break her."

Hatred burst from my heart, infecting me with uncontrollable rage. I charged at him recklessly, my fists poised and muscles tensed. He leapt back, swinging his masamune across our path, and I immediately paused at the sight of the metallic glint.

"Yes, I will have her, Cloud," he went on apathetically, "I will take her and destroy her just to watch you fill yourself with guilt." His lips curled into a thin smile.

"You're nothing but a phantom, a dead memory," I said with distain, ignoring his remark, "Why do you persist in haunting me?"

This seemed to elicit nothing but laughter from him, his eyes squeezed shut for a second. Taking advantage of this brief interlude, my eyes scanned the barren surroundings looking for my sword or any weapon because without it, he would cut me down easily. But there was nothing. Only dust and a flat horizon under the darkening edges of the sky.

"You can never rid yourself of a darkness within," he said bitterly and swung the masamune upwards without another word.

I jumped back quickly, my arms raised subconsciously in defense. The sword sliced through empty air, barely missing me. But he was fast, and before I could move he slashed downwards, the tip of the blade cutting through my forearms. I sucked my breath in with pain and instantly wrapped my wounded arms around my waist, blood gushing from the two long slices. They weren't very deep, though, hardly something to panic over. I looked up to see another flash of silver, the sting of a cut across my face. I fell down, my cheek split open.

He was purposefully giving me superficial wounds.

"Defenseless without that sword, are we?" he mocked.

I pulled my arms in, trying to staunch the blood flow on my shirt, and stood shakily, my eyes locked on his. The entire left side of my jaw and neck was wet with a thin stream of red. But I knew he was playing with me.

"You can't kill me. You need my Jenova now," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "You don't have any more minions to dominate - no Kadaj, no remnants, nothing."

"Ah, but I do have a Cloud," he smirked. "And yet I need nothing from you. This new Jenova you have is quite flawed, but it is enough to sustain me without you. After I've disposed of Tifa, Mother and I will be free to continue our mission."

My heart flared at the mention of Tifa.

"Why kill Tifa? She has Jenova now too," I said flatly, hoping to convince him not to harm her.

"Yes, we know. We are conflicted between her possible usefulness in our endeavors and her utility as an instrument of your downfall," he lowered his eyes at me, "Mother prefers the former, while I the latter."

He lifted the sword slightly and slashed forward with alarming ferocity. This time I dodged sideways, narrowly missing the blade, hearing it sing past my ear, and ran at him. He pulled the masamune down towards me, but I was close enough already. I punched him right in the face, my knuckles hitting his mouth. My only thoughts were on disarming him, somehow.

The blade paused mid-air as he recoiled from the blow. I swung my other fist up, but he released one hand from the hilt and caught me by the neck, shoving me away. I fell on my back, sliding, dust all around me, dirt caking over the blood on my arms.

"I think she will be almost as much fun to play with as you were," he said cruelly, advancing towards me.

I jumped up instantly, but the masamune cut through the air and I reacted much too slow. A blinding hot pain suddenly enveloped my right shoulder.

"You're still weak," he laughed.

I held my shoulder with my left hand, blood flowing through my fingers. It was the same spot he had stabbed me before, but the sheer force and unexpected nature of the reopened wound had completely stunned me. He was too fast, cutting me again, pain in my shin suddenly. My arm was turning numb, adrenaline suppressing the pain temporarily. He was trying to render me incapable of fighting back without killing me. Sadistic.

My hatred was unquenchable. I threw myself off the ground, dust blurring around me. He turned to the side, angling the sword at me, but I leapt to his right just as he slashed forward and tackled him.

He must have expected this, however, because he twisted back as we fell, the blade suddenly at my stomach. I punched him once, weakly, the pain across my abdomen paralyzing. He pushed himself free of me effortlessly and I remained on the ground, surprised by the slippery blood covering my waist.

"Hmm, you really are foolish. But I suppose it's not very fair for one armed combatant to face an unarmed opponent. But why would I purposefully arm you in battle? That would be very foolish of me. And I'm in control of everything now," he said down to me. "You are powerless."

I felt like I was suffocating, the dust around me thick, the pain in my stomach unbearable. I looked out, past the abyss directly behind Sephiroth. I couldn't understand what his words meant, my mind was racing incomprehensibly, and my body was going into shock.

"But I can't blame you for trying. Too bad you never were in control. Mother never liked you much."

The silver flashed past my eyes again, my other cheek sliced open. The blood dripping didn't register in my head for several minutes, my arms still wrapped around my abdomen, my shoulder entirely numb. I tried to stand, but stumbled onto my knees.

"I want to watch you beg for death," he growled menacingly, his jade eyes narrowed down at me.

"You really think you are in control?" My voice was nothing but a faint rasp.

"Ah, he speaks!" Sephiroth laughed.

He bent down and grabbed me by the collar, dragging me to the edge of the wasteland. I fell on my side, horrifically close to the terrible abyss, but I couldn't move. My body was shutting down, a strange stillness enveloping me. Sephiroth stood above me, the white horizon at his back. I felt like puking.

"This new Jenova you have is far more potent, easier to grasp and twist. Wouldn't you agree?" He laughed manically again.

My thoughts went to Tifa. I just wanted to hear her voice again. But I was trapped in the furthest recess of...wherever this was, with no way out. The thought of Sephiroth torturing her shook me with anger. Of course, that's exactly what he wanted, but I didn't care.

I dragged myself away from him as best I could manage, but the edge dropped off behind my fingertips. Sephiroth moved forward and held the masamune cleanly at my throat, the cold metal pressing gently against my flesh.

"You won't kill me," I said weakly.

"Not yet. I'd rather crush you with Tifa's death first. Now that you can't fight me," he said with a cruel smile, "Here, let me show you."

As he spoke, images filled my head. Flashes of light and dark and indistinguishable speech assaulted my senses all at once. The scenes began clearing. I couldn't push them away, no matter what, and panic was spreading in my stomach and heart as I heard Tifa's voice in the darkness.

She sounded frightened. I saw myself standing in a nearly demolished building, half covered in shade. It was nighttime and the only light came from a distant streetlamp flickering dimly through a destroyed door frame. Tifa was curled up, her legs hugged to her chest. I could hear Sephiroth laughing.

I reached down and pulled her up by the shoulder. She screamed. I dropped her in the light of the doorway, her eyes full of fear.

"Stop!" I shouted to Sephiroth. "Stop this!"

"What you see is the truth," Sephiroth's voice was full of malice.

"No..." I cringed in pain, "No. You can't do this to her."

I was desperately trying to free myself from the vision as I watched myself kneel over Tifa on the floor, my arms wrapped around her neck. He wanted me to watch her die, but I couldn't give him that satisfaction.

Sephiroth would not have gone out of his way to do anything that deviated from his supposed mission. There was something horribly wrong. Of course, the Sephiroth I knew died years ago. This was nothing but an image, an echo, a memory... A manifestation of this thing within me... Jenova. But how could I trust myself? I was part of Jenova too. Was this Sephiroth a part of me then too? Had he actually transcended beyond a mere extension of Jenova's will and become the full integration of Jenova itself? My head was starting to ache.

And I was watching myself strangle Tifa. I couldn't think anymore.

A sharp fresh pain ripped through me, dulling all previous aches. Suddenly, the vision snapped close. I gasped, unable to breathe any air suddenly. The wasteland around me was spinning, the black abyss inviting me towards it.

But I was concentrating on Tifa. I had to reach her.

Sephiroth was no longer laughing. I turned my gaze to watch him through the chaos. He dropped his sword, and fell to one knee, his arm across his stomach. His face was distorted in pain.

"The Jenova..." he whispered, then his eyes locked accusingly on me, "You never were... strong enough..."

Everything was crumbling with frightening velocity around me, the pain gripping me, tearing me apart. His control was diminishing, the world breaking into fragments around me. I couldn't comprehend what was going on. Through the tremendous dust swirling violently, I saw Sephiroth's form disintegrate, leaving me in utter confusion. My ears were ringing and the pain was excruciating, binding me.

And suddenly I was falling backwards, blinded, enervated. My lungs felt crushed, asphyxiation swallowing me. Heat prickled along my raw skin. All the light drained away.

Then something cold, like water, rushed around me. A catharsis.

My senses were thrown back into my control, and the hectic emptiness around me halted. Reality smashed into focus with astounding lucidity. I exhaled, my lungs rejuvenated, and opened my eyes.

I found myself kneeling over someone on the floor of an entirely unfamiliar dismal room. My eyes adjusted to the dim lighting as I leaned back, confused as to what exactly had just happened. I noticed the person below me was shaking.

Blinking, I peered down at the figure. She gazed up at me timidly.

"Tifa!" I was so shocked to see her.

"Cloud?" Her eyes were curved down with fright.

My eyes met hers and she relaxed suddenly, sighing with relief. Immediately I grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her close, staring at her intently. Had Sephiroth really hurt her? Or was he just taunting me the whole time? There was a distant aching in my chest. If he hurt her, I would never forgive myself.

"Are you alright?" I asked quickly, "What happened?"

She smiled up at me, tears spilling over her cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" I was horrified. Her hands were scarlet with blood. "Tifa... you're bleeding!" I shouted, grabbing her hand, inspecting the several long gashes covered in glass bits. Her gloves were gone.

I picked off some of the glass fragments, wiping the blood off with the bottom of my shirt feverishly. She continued to stare at me silently, smiling, the tears still streaming.

"Tifa, answer me!" I cried out, unable to contain my fear that Sephiroth had done something horrible to her.

"I..." her voice was frail, "I'm fine."

I froze as a terrible thought fell on me. Wasn't I sitting over her just like this in that sick vision? Wasn't I the one strangling her? No, that couldn't have been real. But her neck was pink, a slight bruising pattern forming...

"What happened?" I responded softly, wrought with dread, "I didn't hurt you again, did I?" I didn't want to think about what I had done to her last time I blacked out.

I stood and immediately helped her up, holding her wrists gently to avoid aggravating the glass embedded in her palms. There was no way I could remove it all. I had to take her to a hospital. All the wounds I sustained at Sephiroth's will were gone. There was only a residual stinging sensation concentrated around my eye. But the pain had felt so real... It was difficult to discern memory from dreams, delusions from reality.

"I'm so glad you're back," Tifa whispered, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Back? What do you mean? Where was I?" I demanded, horrified.

She leaned heavily on me. I held her steady, and suddenly noticed her leg was covered in thick blood.

"What is the last thing you remember?" she asked me, her voice faint.

"Tifa, your leg...! I have to get you to a hospital," I said straight away. It would take several rounds of mastered Cure materia to heal the deep gash in her thigh.

"It's fine..." She dismissed it with a shake of her head.

"No. No, that's not fine. If you don't want to take care of yourself, then I will," I said decisively and picked her up before she could protest.

A new sense of urgency had overtaken me. I needed her to be safe more than anything. Sephiroth's words had chilled me, his sick determination to kill her solely to affect me filled me with a very real fear that I had never felt.

Holding her in my arms, I took a look around at last.

"Uh...where are we?" I asked finally.

"I think it's the ruins of Sector Three," her tired voice said.

She was staring up at me, her arms behind my neck. All at once, I realized I could no longer sense the Jenova in her body. I was so preoccupied with everything else that I hadn't even noticed! Then, with a rush of relief, I realized the thing inside of me was no longer clawing for control.

"It's gone," I said to myself, absentmindedly.

I was struggling to piece together what had happened.

"What? What's gone?" Tifa asked innocently.

"The Jenova ...the cloned pieces, I mean. It's gone. I can't feel it anymore. I'm ... normal again," I said, but the words felt strange.

Normal, as in still contaminated with Jenova, but for the first time I was comforted by a bizarre attachment to a piece of me that was familiar, at the very least. I was glad that other shit was gone, but even more relieved that my true Jenova cells hadn't been affected, as far as I could tell. I felt ... fine, back to my old self. But Tifa wouldn't stop staring at me in confusion. And I had no answers.

How could I explain the absence of something that I hadn't even realized was weighing me down until it was gone? Of course, my pure Jenova cells remained. They were hardly noticeably anyways, unless in the vicinity of other potent Jenova, but it was never overtly painful; not like the sickening writhing that I had felt from the replicated pieces... as if they had their own purpose. Well, they did, I guess.

"How?" Tifa's voice interrupted my thoughts.

And I felt nothing from Tifa's Jenova. The cloned cells must've augmented my own Jenova, making it possible to feel the trace amounts within her, causing her cells to respond. Yet now with the replicated cells distinctly absent, I could feel nothing.

"I don't know. It was never pure Jenova, I suppose," I admitted and sighed, "Maybe it just couldn't integrate with the actual Jenova cells."

Truthfully, I was just as confused as she was, but I didn't care why any of it happened. I was only happy it was gone.

A shiny glint of metal attracted my eye. Half concealed in the shadows, a sword lay on its side, discarded.

"Hm, that's mine," I mumbled to myself.

My chest froze. I didn't remember taking my sword anywhere. How the hell did it get here? Tifa didn't say anything.

It all came to me at once. I didn't want to believe it, but I knew exactly what had happened. Denial couldn't change a damn thing. And the sword only emphasized my guilt.

Sephiroth had taken control of me, just as he had done to Kadaj and to me in the past. My concentrated amount of Jenova had facilitated it. Then, when it couldn't sustain his presence, it broke down. Or maybe it was just a coincidence, and very good timing, that the genuine Jenova cells had instinctually destroyed the intruders while Sephiroth was busy torturing me. Either way, it was clear that I had hurt Tifa, very badly.

I put Tifa down gently for a moment, and picked up the sword cautiously, forcing myself to stop dwelling on its significance. It was of no consequence now. I sheathed it quickly and picked Tifa back up, her face now pallid.

I carried her outside and looked around for several moments, trying to reorient myself in the darkness of the looming ruins of Midgar, torn and splayed apart. The last time I was in Sector Three must've been years ago. But there was really only one way to go through all the rumble. Carefully, I began walking down the narrow cracked street through the destroyed vestiges of the past.

A light rain hung in the air like mist, and the clouds above stretched into lightening shades of gray, the edge of the horizon burning with the pale whitish blue of dawn as we approached Edge. The streets were mostly empty, and Tifa remained silent the entire time.

"I'm bringing you to a hospital," I told her finally, "Then I'm going to look for the kids."

"Cloud..." I knew she was about to ask an important question from the tone of her voice.

"Yes?" I wanted to avoid her gaze, concentrating on the shortest route to the only hospital nearby.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

I took a breath, sorting the events in my head. I had to verify if my fears were true.

"Did I hurt you, Tif? Did I do this to you?" I already knew the answer.

"It wasn't you," she said quietly.

Of course it wasn't. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't have been able to stop it. My blood was frozen in my veins.

"Who... who was it?" I asked nonchalantly. Did she know that it was actually Sephiroth, that I was too weak to do a damn thing? I felt so ashamed suddenly.

"Cloud, I don't blame you for any of it," her voice soothed.

But I wanted her to know that I really wasn't involved in whatever Sephiroth had done to her. Guilt fell on me, crushingly heavy.

"The last thing I remember is talking to you in the inn," I insisted, of course, not true at all, "And I sat down on the bed. You were calling my name. Then... I ... I don't remember anything else." Except for trying to strangle you.

"Did you hear me talking to you at all after that?" she inquired.

"No..."

She stopped asking questions, much to my relief. The wound in her leg hadn't entirely stopped bleeding, although it was beginning to coagulate. I just wanted to get her to a hospital because I had absolutely no materia. The cut was way too deep for a simple low level Cure anyways.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, and held her a little tighter.

"Sorry for...?" She was so sweet; trying to pretend none of this was my fault.

"In the bar," I found it difficult to speak, the memory still fresh, "I know what that must've felt like. It won't happen again. Now that it's gone, I can't..." My words trailed off as I remembered the elation of control.

The power over her had been so intensely exhilarating, I found myself wanting it back. But I tried to separate from that sick piece of me that enjoyed watching another person suffer. It didn't matter anymore. The other Jenova was gone anyways.

And I knew the agony I had put her through.

"Don't worry about it," she mumbled, her voice fading with exhaustion. I glanced down and saw her closing her eyes.

"Try to stay awake. You've lost a lost of blood, I think," I said, trying maintain a firm tone.

We were almost near the hospital. My arms were just starting to ache from carrying her so far, but Tifa suddenly went limp, her arms falling from behind my neck, resting against her chest. She had fallen asleep.

"I'm so sorry, for everything," I whispered, but of course she couldn't hear me.


	9. Shatter

_Chapter Nine – Shatter_

* * *

It was past dawn by the time I reached the hospital, the sky melting into shades of white and pink high above. I went straight to the main wing. The moment I walked in, an old fat nurse behind the desk rushed over to me. Thankfully, the rest of the lobby was deserted.

"Oh my, what's happened to her? Poor thing," the nurse exclaimed, calling the other aides for help.

I said nothing, because I couldn't think up an excuse fast enough.

Two other nurses appeared, taking Tifa from me, and vanished immediately through the double doors down the hall. I felt anxious suddenly now that Tifa was out of my sight, as if she would simply disappear forever into the arms of faceless enemies. Before I could follow them, the old nurse grabbed my arm and pulled me to the desk.

"Now, just tell me her name, sweetie," she smiled up at me.

The hospital scent and her clean white dress made me feel uneasy. I felt the air grow thick and my pulse raced.

"Her name, please?" the old nurse asked again, a bit agitated.

The room suddenly felt smaller and I was sure at any moment something horrible would happen. I couldn't control the fear, my breathing shallow, as though I were being crushed. I had to get out.

"Sweetie, are you sure you don't need to see a doctor too?" the nurse asked, holding my arm tighter.

"No!" I said instantly.

Sweat was forming on my skin, and I wanted nothing more than to leave, unable to breathe in that hospital for a moment longer. The idea of seeing a doctor made my skin crawl.

"No, I have to go," I said, attempting to resume a normal tone. The nurse eyed me strangely, as though I were lying.

"Well, at least tell me your friend's name," she said disapprovingly.

"Lockhart... Tifa Lockhart. I... I'll be back to check on her," I replied. I couldn't stay a second longer. My heart was beating too fast, everything in the hospital felt villainous.

The nurse released my arm to type something into her computer, but I didn't dare stay a moment longer, my blood trembling throughout. I tore open the lobby door and left the hospital without another word.

Once outside, the anxiety began lifting slowly. I took a deep breath after I had gotten a few blocks away. What the hell was that about? My fear dissipated and I was left feeling extremely foolish, but unable to shake the cold away from me.

My head was beginning to clear. I wanted to go back and stay with Tifa, at least for a few hours, but the idea of experiencing that awful dread again dissuaded me. Then, I remembered Marlene and Denzel. And I had a pretty good idea where they would've gone to hide.

But first I went back to the bar, just to make sure they weren't there. The door was unlocked, and inside the entire place was a wreck – broken tables and chairs everywhere, spatters of blood on the floor, shattered bottles of liquor. It felt so long ago, yet I had stood here just last night, at the mercy of an enemy within.

I went upstairs. Everything was eerily undisturbed. No, they weren't here, of course. I left quickly and made my way to the church. Without a doubt, that would be where Marlene would've wanted to go, and Denzel would most likely have stayed with her. I doubted Vincent had actually gone to ensure their safety like Tifa had asked.

Aerith's church always felt dually welcoming and disheartening to me, a scent of eternally blooming flowers mixing with the rot and decay of the wooden benches. And it never got any easier to accept that she was dead. Every time I entered, I swore I saw her, standing there, waiting for me. And I always sighed the same when she vanished instantly, nothing but a memory.

But this time, my eyes were not scanning for her. Light was spilling in from the broken ceiling, illuminating the crumbling gray stone everywhere. I walked slowly down the center path, looking for any signs that the kids were here. Everything appeared untouched.

"Marlene?" I called gently, my voice echoing slightly.

A tiny sob emitted from behind one of the fallen pillars, then someone whispering harshly. I took a few steps towards it and peered over.

Marlene and Denzel were crouched low, huddled together.

"Cloud!" Marlene's smiling eyes turned up to me, "I heard you call me, but Denzel-"

"Get away!" Denzel shouted at me fearfully, placing himself in front of Marlene, his arms spread in her defense.

"Relax. It's just me," I said.

"Get away!" Denzel repeated, louder, hatred gleaming in his eyes.

"Marlene-" I tried to appeal to her.

"Denzel, stop it! It's Cloud!" she yelled and pushed past him.

Denzel made an attempt to stop her, but she climbed over the fallen pillar quickly holding her arms out happily to me. I stooped and picked her up. She instantly hugged me tight around the neck, and I looked over her shoulder at Denzel, as if her actions should be enough to clear me of any guilt from last night's event.

"Denzel, please, trust me," I said sincerely to him.

"But I saw you fight Vincent and... and you hurt Tifa... and you even ASKED me to stay away from you that one morning before you left!" he listed defiantly.

Marlene continued hugging me, and I felt warm little tears on my shoulder.

"It's over, Denzel," I told him, my voice as soft as possible. "Please, just trust me."

"Where's Tifa?" he demanded.

"She's safe." I couldn't exactly tell them she was in the hospital, or they would only worry more.

Denzel seemed to relax a bit from hearing this.

"Everyone is safe, now," I went on, "And I needed to make sure you were both safe too."

He looked down for a moment, a sigh shaking his tiny frame and sat back. His eyes lost their accusing glare and he looked at me sadly.

"Was Vincent here with you?" I asked warily.

"He was, but when we woke up just now he was gone..." Denzel replied downtrodden, "He told us that you didn't know what you were doing, that you were gone."

Good going, Vincent. Scare them half to death, why don't you?

"Well, that wasn't the truth because I'm right here," I tried to sound friendly, but I was inwardly angry Vincent had left them alone.

"You won't leave us, right, Cloud?" Marlene small voice sobbed.

"No, of course not. I'm going to stay right here with you," I said, and my gaze met Denzel's again.

Had they even gotten any sleep? Both of them looked as though they would faint.

I sat down, leaning against the back wall of the church, behind the pool of flowers, with Marlene settling next to me, and kept my eyes on the door, half expecting Vincent to rush in full of accusations and malice. Marlene snuggled under my arm and closed her eyes, sighing happily.

Denzel was still eyeing me suspiciously, but sat down next to me leaving a deliberate space between us. I didn't say anything else, the silence alone emphasizing the distance. I wanted to remain with them for as long as I could, the world outside felt hectic and demanding. I thought of Tifa in the hospital. I had to see her later, no matter what.

Marlene soon fell asleep under my arm, and eventually Denzel leaned against my shoulder, his eyes closed. I sat with them, motionless, for a long time, letting them rest. I had no desire to sleep, but I contented myself with patiently watching the door as the sun climbed higher in the sky, warming the air.

For the first time in a long time, I began to feel at ease. Tifa was safe. The kids were safe. I was safe, at last. Sephiroth had faded back into my memories and the cloned Jenova cells had been purged. And I hadn't felt Jenova's voice in the longest.

A sense of complete sanctity settled around me, and after my adrenaline had at last calmed, I became aware of a sharp stinging around my eye and jaw. It must have been from Tifa, I thought grimly. She defended herself against me no doubt, and would have ultimately failed. Had I not regained control at that exact moment, I would have killed her.

The door creaked and my eyes popped opened, attention snapped to the intruder. I hadn't even realized I had dozed off until I awoke.

But I stayed motionless, the kids still sleeping on either side of me. The church was lit a bit brighter, the sun higher in the sky. I must've been sleeping for hours... The thought alarmed me and for a second I was worried I had blacked out again.

"Ah, we knew you'd be here," Tseng's voice said.

Tseng and Elena stood by the entrance, staring over at me. Still, I didn't move. I was trying to discern what their motives could be because I was sick of fighting.

"Cloud-" Elena began, but she stopped talking once she spotted the kids asleep.

"Cloud," Tseng's voice was lowered considerably, "We know what's happened."

"No, you don't," I replied, my volume matching his.

Denzel stirred.

"We've known," Tseng went on, unfaltering, "And the Director of the Science Division has personally contacted us on the matter, requesting termination of the entire project."

" 'Project' ?" I said more viciously than I intended.

Denzel woke up, but remained silent once he spotted Tseng and Elena. I didn't need him or Marlene hearing any of this.

Tseng went on, "The Director asked-"

"I don't care," I cut him off sharply.

I had no interest in dealing with ShinRa ever again. Rufus simply uses people to whatever purpose would promote his company. He used me to appease the company's science division with their sick obsession over Jenova, and he used my apparent "failure" to bring finality to the whole Jenova issue. And of course he sends his little Turk here to talk to me, unable to face me himself. I had no respect for the man.

Elena and Tseng looked at each other, apparently concerned.

"Well," Elena began softly, "then, it's over."

"I know," I said without looking at her.

"Cloud, this entire matter has gone from a security issue to a classified event," Elena told me.

"What Elena means," Tseng interrupted her, "is that, as far as ShinRa is concerned, this never happened. You are not allowed to speak of it nor will ShinRa ever confirm anything that's occurred."

The words cut me deep. It was Nibelheim all over again. I should've seen this coming.

"Well? Don't you have anything to say?" Elena asked after several moments of silence.

"No," I said with a sigh. Of course I was furious, but it was unremarkable behavior for ShinRa and I blamed myself for not anticipating it. There was no sense fighting anymore. I thought of Tifa.

"And what of the cloned Jenova?" Elena said sideways to Tseng, her voice lowered.

"It's gone," I said loudly. She looked at me in shock. I went on, "It was a failure anyways. But I'm sure you'll put that in your official report, no?" The sarcasm was so fitting I couldn't resist.

Tseng made a slight nod at Elena and they both turned to leave. Good riddance. The moment the door closed behind them, Denzel sat up straight, his blue eyes fixed on mine.

"What did they mean? What about Jenova? Isn't that the stuff you told me makes people crazy," he asked fearfully.

"Yes. But don't worry. Here, let's go see Tifa. I'm sure she's worried about you both," I changed the subject as quickly as I could without raising suspicion. At the mention of Tifa, his eyes lit up.

Marlene was still asleep so I carried her in my arms gently with Denzel walking alongside me. He remained silent, following me through Edge. The closer I got to the hospital, the more anxious I became, remembering the gripping fear that suffocated me last time.

"Where are we going? Where's Tifa?" Denzel asked, once we turned down the block to the hospital.

"She's ... in the hospital, but she's ok, don't worry," I added hastily.

"Why is she in the hospital?" his eyes went wide.

Please stop asking questions...

"I ... uh, don't worry. She's fine," I found myself repeating, more so trying to convince myself than him. Denzel fell silent.

Once inside the lobby of the hospital, I saw the same old fat nurse sitting at the reception desk. She seemed to remember me because her face broke into a smile.

"Oh, so you _did_ come back! Well, your friend is fine. Oh my," she looked at Marlene and Denzel, "I didn't realize... Is that your wife in there? Awww, what beautiful children! My, look at those big blue eyes!" She squinted at Denzel.

"Well, no, it's not like that," I tried explaining, but she wasn't listening, so I gave up.

"Here, let me show you her room. Don't worry, sweetie, she's just fine," the nurse patted Denzel on the head as she spoke, and Denzel looked at me worriedly.

As she led us down a stark white corridor, the smell of various chemicals mixed with rubbing alcohol made me uneasy. I took a deep breath, forcing my mind to focus on Tifa. The strange fear had begun creeping over me once more. Ok, I'll just stay to make sure she's alright, then I'll leave, I told myself, feeling my pulse quicken.

"Here we are," the old nurse stopped at a nondescript door and continued grinning at me. Then she abruptly turned and vanished around a corner.

Exhaling, I put my hand on the cold metal door knob. I hated hospitals so much.

Denzel pushed past me, apparently upset with my hesitation, and opened the door, rushing to Tifa's bedside. The moment I entered, Tifa's face illuminated, her eyes sparkling. She was sitting up in the bed, wearing a hospital gown, the unnaturally bright white blankets thrown off. The entire room was quite tiny and an empty chair was pulled up alongside the bed. I vaguely wondered who else had visited her before me.

"Marlene, wake up," I said softly, nudging her awake.

Marlene slowly took one look around then squealed in delight once she spotted Tifa, jumping down from my arms and running to her.

"Cloud," Tifa finally looked up at me, "Oh my god, your eye!"

I glanced over at the unframed tiny mirror near the door. The socket of my right eye was a dark blue. Wow. That would explain why it stung so much. Had the kids been too frightened to mention it? It didn't matter. One black eye meant nothing against the pain I had inflicted on her.

"I'm ... I'm glad you defended yourself, Tif," I said at length. The distractingly bright white walls were really bothering me.

But I stood there, watching them all hugging and smiling and laughing like they hadn't seen each other in years, and I felt myself distinctly apart from that happy picture.

"Tif," I said softly, and their voices halted, eyes turned to me, "ShinRa is denying everything now."

"I know," she replied, a hint of bitterness in her tone, "Reno and Rude were here already. They told me."

"But... you and I are... well, I was thinking," and everything in my head was a mess, "Usually, someone with Jenova is also showered with Mako, to support the Jenova cells... and you never were... uh..." I really did not want to talk about it in front of the kids, but I couldn't exactly ask them to leave.

"I'll be fine," she said instantly, "You... you told me there wasn't a lot of Jenova in my body anyways." Her eyes avoided mine.

I certainly never told her that, and at once I understood that Sephiroth had told her that. She didn't want to use his name.

"Right," I nodded as though I remembered, "Of course."

The creeping fear grew worse. I wanted to leave. My heart beat faster. The walls appeared to crowd inwards, intent on crushing me. I had to get out of there.

"I don't want to stay here," Tifa sighed deeply.

"Then, let's just leave," I replied instantly.

"Well, the nurses told me to stay put at least overnight-"

"If you want to leave, I'm taking you home," I said firmly without hesitation, then added, "They won't stop me."

All three of them stared at me, unsmiling. I looked away. Perhaps that was the wrong tone to use.

Tifa broke the uncomfortable silence, "Cloud, are you alright?"

"Hospitals make me... uneasy," I muttered. I was probably in the vicinity of hundreds of needles...

"Then let's go," Tifa said lightheartedly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. A huge white bandage was wrapped over her thigh and her palms were layered under gauze, not yet fully healed. I helped her stand and together we left the confines of the hospital room.

* * *

Marlene was chatting rapidly with Tifa, who walked beside me, clinging to my arm ever so often for support, her wounded leg still giving her some trouble. I felt like some fugitive escaping a prison as we hurried through the cleanly glossy halls. I knew Zack would have gotten a kick out of it. It was rather comical, I'm sure.

None of the hospital personnel bothered to give us a second look, but the fat old nurse by the desk was squinting at me with suspicion as I neared her.

"Where do you think you're going?" the nurse called out.

"Out this door," I replied, motioning towards the lobby entrance.

"No, you're not. She needs rest! You're not authorized to remove any patient!" she cried out desperately as I kept walking. She scurried away from the desk and grabbed my elbow.

"She wants to go home, so I'm taking her home," I responded curtly.

"No... But, you cannot!" the nurse shouted, all the friendliness absent from her voice now.

"Yes, I can and I will. Go call the president for all I care," I pulled my arm away from her. Let her go call Rufus. What more damage could he do? Send more Turks after me? Oooh, scary!

"Stop!" the nurse cried in vain.

I glared at her over my shoulder and she fell back, halting her small tirade. We exited without further incident. Outside the air was now thick and humid, a few clouds sifting through the sea of deep blue sky.

It was strange walking with all three of them in complete silence. Any mention of the events that transpired last night was conspicuously avoided. The moment I was out of that hospital, however, my anxiety lifted and everything seemed a little brighter.


	10. Argument and Resolution

_Chapter Ten – Argument and Resolution_

* * *

The bar was still in a state of disrepair when we returned. Tifa immediately sent the kids upstairs, probably just so they would avoid seeing the destruction evident everywhere. Sometimes she's too overprotective of them, but I didn't argue and began surveying the damage.

"It feels like so long ago," Tifa mumbled, picking up a broken bar stool.

"I know..." I couldn't shake the memory of twisting control.

She was standing directly over the spot where she had fallen unconscious into my arms, the Jenova so alive in that moment now dormant.

"Did you think that it was the end?" Her voice was soft and apprehensive.

"What?" I was frightened by her question. I didn't want the details of anything I did, if that's what she was about to divulge.

"The end of ... us..." She lowered her voice as she sorted through the remaining unbroken bottles behind the bar counter.

"Us?" I repeated the short word, testing the heavy weight of its implication.

"Yes..."

I stared at her for a moment, unbelieving that she could desire even the slightest friendship with me after all this.

"I almost strangled you," I reminded her bluntly, "There is no 'us'."

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, "I just thought-"

"Do you realize how close I came to killing you?" I stressed very seriously, dropping my voice, "Tifa... I... I can't even tell you... Yes, I thought it was the end, but of something much more, for me."

"What happened to you? ... Just tell me, please!" she hissed quietly.

I turned away. It was impossible to explain to her.

"Just... leave it alone," I said at last, busying myself by arbitrarily moving one of the tables.

She huffed and opened her mouth to protest, then fell silent with a shocked look on her face and turned away.

We didn't speak of it again that day, cleaning up the bar in total silence. Our words after that consisted of short exchanges, inane questions or requests. The tension was upsetting, and it was later clear the kids could sense that something had changed between us, but I was adamant about maintaining a distance with Tifa.

Although it may have seemed unkind not to kiss and embrace her and pursue a happy relationship together, I felt there was nothing to celebrate, even though the immediate danger had passed. If anything, it only proved that I could never give her a normal life, that I had, in fact, only made matters much worse. And it was too much for me - I loved her too much, and I could not promise her that what had happened to me could never happen again.

After a tense and silent dinner, I went to my room alone, unable to stand her wordless gaze any longer. I made up my mind to leave her, if not forever, then until I could fix the guilt inside me. She deserved more than I could offer.

Once upstairs, I realized there was something soft like leathery fabric in one of my pockets. It was a pair of gloves, and I instantly recognized them with sinking desolation – Tifa's fighting gloves, taken from her by Sephiroth no doubt. I threw them aside with a sudden spark of anger because I didn't want any reminder of what I had done to her. That night I lay in bed, unable to sleep. My future gaped in front of me, a void. Is this my fate – monstrous and empty?

The morning arrived without hesitation. I hadn't slept at all. Going downstairs for some coffee, I saw her sitting in the kitchen already holding a full mug. But I just had to get away from her. I would have to skip the coffee this morning then, I thought, turning quickly to avoid her.

"Cloud."

I paused, but did not face her.

"Yes?"

"I can't do this alone." Her normally strong voice was greatly subdued.

There was nothing I could say to her, because the truth was I didn't want to face my actions. The blunt responsibility of it all crushed everything within me, and I simply felt like sleeping. Going back into my room, I just lay on the bed, exhausted yet unable to fall asleep. The light creeping through the blinds left uneven slits shadowed on the floor as the sun rose. Every moment I relaxed, however, a sharp paranoia would shake me awake because I was vividly afraid of losing consciousness.

A light tapping on the door a few hours later arrested my troubled thoughts. I didn't respond, but rolled over to face the wall when I heard the door open.

"Cloud?" a tiny voice called my name full of affection. It was Marlene.

I didn't move.

"Have you been asleep all day?" she sounded truly surprised, even disapproving. Marlene seemed to be the only person whose attitude towards me remained unaltered despite the recent events.

"...Yes," I finally mumbled.

Her quick footsteps paced to the side.

"Why?" she asked innocently.

I did not reply.

"He can't hurt you anymore, right, Cloud?"

A chill went down my spine. Despite her young age, Marlene had instantly picked up on my fear. I often forgot that she knew who Sephiroth was.

"I...don't know, Marlene," I said at length.

This answer did not seem to suffice because she continued to stand there for quite a while, but I did not elaborate. After several minutes, she left, the door closing gently behind her.

The slits of light on the floor faded as the sun fell beneath the blinds, the room slowly submitting to darkness again.

The night brought no sleep once more, a peculiar hollowness settling into my chest. Unable to endure the exaggerated emptiness brought on by my guilt and love for Tifa, I resolved to leave at dawn. Being apart from her seemed the only option to end both sentiments, now too intricately woven together to separate.

I didn't even want to say good-bye, but as I stood in the doorway downstairs early the next morning before anyone else awoke, I felt it would be wrong to leave without doing so. As I stood contemplating, Tifa appeared at the staircase, slowly walking down the steps, her eyes on me as.

"You're leaving?" she asked incredulously.

"I can't stay with you," I breathed out.

"But after all we've been through...!" She stepped closer, limping slightly.

"I can barely look at you. All I can think of is how close I came to losing you," I confessed.

"But you didn't and I'm right here and that's what's important," she insisted.

"How can you even stand to be near me?" I felt so defeated.

"Oh, stop it!" she scoffed, "It's because I love you and I want to help you! Don't act like you're so alone because I'm always there with you!"

"Love... hmm. And a person who loves you, Tifa, would not try to kill you." I tried to justify a reason for my departure.

"But I know that wasn't you!"

"That doesn't matter! I should've been able to stop him!" I shouted angrily.

We both paused at the mention of Sephiroth, her face frozen in revulsion.

"Is that what this is about? Your unending vendetta against a ...a ghost?!"

"And what if I hadn't regained control at that moment? It makes me sick to think that..." But I was unable to finish the sentence.

She looked at me with a blank face, and stated plainly, "Then he has won."

"What? What is that supposed to mean?" My frustration elevated.

"Sephiroth. It's what he wants. To torture you. And you're letting him."

"Tifa -"

"When I was fighting you, well, him...," she corrected herself, "he told me I would be one more death for you to torment yourself over. Don't you see? You can't let this affect you!"

"Let it?" I repeated the words with disdain, "I'm not 'letting' it affect me, Tifa. I can't stop it from affecting me! I can't stomach the fact that I will never be normal, that I can't return your love as a normal person, or give you the happy life that you deserve. I can't even assure you that what happened to me won't happen again!"

"And why not? Why can't you be a normal person?" she yelled back, "Why can't you stop fighting or running?"

"Because the threat will never go away."

"Because you won't let go of it!"

I sighed. She obviously did not understand.

"And that's exactly why I'm leaving," I said calmly after a brief second of silence, turning towards the door.

"So that it, then? You're going to just fill yourself with guilt?"

Her words chilled me. Hadn't Sephiroth said something similar?

"The pain won't go away, you know," she continued mildly.

"I'm not in pain," I said harshly, "I'm doing this for your own good."

"My own good!" she laughed, "And what do you know about what's good for me? Hmm? You obviously don't know a damn thing about me if you think walking out after nearly bringing me to my final hour will do me any good! What a lot of good that would do me!" she spat sarcastically.

That was it. Now, I was really very angry. I spun around to face her, moving close.

"And you," I began, "don't know a damn thing about the constant struggle for control that I have to contend with whenever any of that Jenova shit comes near me. You don't know the guilt of infecting someone you care about with that same disease, and you don't know a damn thing about constantly being followed by a fucking shadow that resides within yourself. So, no, Tifa, don't tell me a goddamn thing about what I don't know, because right now, I know that if I stay with you, I may end up killing you." I drew closer to her as I spoke, the last sentence nothing but a callous whisper.

She glared back at me, but her eyes softened.

"You..." she started to say, but her lips closed quickly.

I stared at her a second longer, letting the gravity of my words fall. She knew I was right. I pulled away from her, turning once more to the door, exhaling. I had never actually yelled at her like that before.

"Wait," she called to me, her voice small now, lacking any of the previous malice, "Please, wait."

I sighed and stopped again, turning around. Her eyes were wet with tears.

"I can't do this alone," she sighed, her voice close to a sob, "Don't leave me here alone."

"You aren't alone," I said indifferently, "You have the kids and Barret and Vincent and Reno. And you've always done fine by yourself. You're strong. You don't need me."

"That's not true anymore," she frowned, "I do need you. It doesn't matter if you don't think so. We're linked now. And you know it."

"The Jenova doesn't matter," I said, knowing it wasn't true.

"Just stay with me. Please," she was pleading now, "Please, I don't want you to leave."

I groaned at this pitiful coercion tactic. She was just flat-out begging me. For several long moments I stood between her and the door, unsure of either. I was torn between one part of me that wanted to leave her immediately to avoid ever hurting her again and the other piece that couldn't stand to see her cry. Her warm reddish-brown eyes stared at me in a silent plea, as if leaving her at that moment would cause their existence to simply cease.

My choices were clear. It was either cause her definite pain now by walking out, or cause her probable pain later if I ever lost control again. It wasn't difficult to decide once I had reduced it to such, because avoiding definite pain was the easier, more immediate solution to the dilemma before me.

"Goddamn it," I said at last, and sighed deeply, "You really know how to be persuasive."

Her face broke into a smile and she darted forward, hugging me. Her affectionate action loosened my determination to leave, yet I still wasn't convinced it was the right decision. But at the moment, I only wanted to make her happy.

She released me and her smiling eyes met mine.

"Thank you," she whispered.

* * *

Tifa was much more cheerful the entire day, and even though we hardly spoke, she was constantly smiling at me. By nightfall we had finished repairing the entire bar. The only thing left to do was restock the liquor. I couldn't imagine going back to daily life, though, delivering things all day and visiting the church with Marlene again like I used to. It seemed too unreal. Everything felt a bit more precious. And I was constantly waiting for that sickening surge of Jenova to overtake me again. But it never came.

Vincent stopped by the bar later, giving me a very cold glare as he spoke with Tifa, and Denzel seemed to regard me with an air of caution and calm distance. I got the distinct feeling that they were merely tolerating me because Tifa was. Reno also came by with Rude, and they strolled past me as though I wasn't even there, Reno immediately talking to Tifa. Apparently, I had been reduced to an object of note-worthy disdain, the main topic of conversations.

That night, I sat in my room alone unable to sleep for the third night in a row, vaguely wondering how much longer I could possibly remain awake without adverse side-effects. Expecting to feel Jenova's voice any moment and once more get pulled into a nightmare, I refused to let my guard down. The chance of a suffering a black-out or something worse again was terrifying.

It was 2am when someone knocked softly at my door. I knew it had to be Tifa, so I turned my head slightly to face the door as she entered. We hadn't spoken about anything since our argument that morning.

"I hope I didn't wake you up," she said at once.

"No, you didn't." I moved over a bit as she sat down next to me, noticing she was wearing long sleeved pajamas, the cuffs hiding the scars on her palms.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" she asked, peering at me carefully.

"Yeah, sure," I said thoughtlessly. My mind was still on our conversation earlier. Did she think I would try to sneak out in the dead of night and leave her forever?

"With the cloned cells gone, Sephiroth can't take control of you again," she said bluntly, as though it were an obvious fact, "That _is_ why he was able to do so, right?"

All my thoughts halted. Her words completely shocked me, but I tried to recover quickly seeing how she sat calmly awaiting an answer.

"Uh...well," I stumbled to avoid an uncomfortable silence, "I guess so."

He had always been able to influence the Jenova cells, and this had been the only time he literally took possession of me like he had to Kadaj, but I didn't tell Tifa that. I just nodded.

"Good, then there is no more threat," she concluded with a smile.

I was not relieved, however. She leaned back against the pillow, stretching her legs out. I knew she was only trying to cheer me up with such words. It was incredible how she could even lay comfortably next to me, knowing what I'd done to her. But she didn't care. Or she just wanted me not to care.

"How do you do it?" I asked after she had snuggled herself into bed.

"Do what?"

"Forgive me so easily."

"It's not easy," she replied with a frown, "But I know there is more at risk than my own selfish fears."

I thought about her words for a long time, feeling that void in front of me diminish. She had to truly love me, then, if she was willing to forgive me solely because she knew it will alleviate my fear. She understood the danger perfectly, yet she chose to hold me there with her, purposefully. Her selflessness shouldn't have surprised me, because that's how she had always been, yet that was the last thing I expected to hear.

"Thank you, for everything," I said at last, knowing she'd helped me more with a few simple words of forgiveness than she could ever imagine.

Tifa just smiled back at me, then pulled me down by my arm. I complied, lying next to her a second later. She was so beautiful and perfect that it was difficult to imagine I had been determined to leave her just twenty four hours prior. Suddenly, Sephiroth and Jenova didn't mean anything to me. There was just Tifa, who had once more saved me from myself.

"And don't you ever try to run off on me again," she chided playfully, draping one arm over me and pulling herself closer.

Her dark eyes were set on mine. I let my hand rest on her hip. Her lips suddenly parted mine sweetly, gently. We kissed only once, but it was more fulfilling than anything else I'd known. I turned the lamp at the bedside off, and enveloped her, hugging her tightly to me. Closing my eyes, I felt her heartbeat next to mine and sighed with relief, becoming whole.

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_-Fin-_

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A/N: Well, that was much more angsty than originally intended, so I hope it wasn't over-the-top. But anywho, leave a review and let me know what you thought of the story as a whole. I'd love to hear from you - good or bad. And a BIG BIG thank you to all my reviewers - you guys kept me going! Much love!

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